


Lex Talionis

by Icarus_fallen



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 10:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 57,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21390319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarus_fallen/pseuds/Icarus_fallen
Summary: Lex Talionis is the law of retaliation.  In which, the perceived offender will be punished as severely as their perceived crimes.  Retribution must be had.  However, as the old saying goes eye for an eye and we’ll all go blind.  Or judge not unless thee be judged.  An AU take on the last few seasons.Posted all 30 chapters at once.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Posting the story all at once. 30 chapters 100 pages. Been writing it slowly over the last few years. Thank you for reading!

Liz’s throat hurt from screaming. Screaming loudly in hopes her tormented cries were enough. Red had to confess the truth. She needed the truth more than she needed to live and more than her relationship with anyone else mattered. All Liz had left was the search for the truth that got Tom killed. While she still had her daughter and her friends, neither seemed to measure up to her desperate need for answers. Grief was a dangerous beast. While many had the stages of grief, for Liz grief became anger. A wave of anger that burned deep inside and could not be tamed. The unfairness of Tom’s death and all that had to happen in her life fueled the anger. Anger ruled her every action, masking itself in pursuit for answers. Anger always needs a place of blame. 

It was impossible to trace the exact moment her anger turned to Reddington. Likely around Tom’s death. Or was it when Ian Garvey died, leaving the beast inside of her to shift from the man who had killed Tom, to the man who had been responsible for why Tom died. Maybe she hated Red from the start, and she just had not been willing to admit it because he was her father after all. Whoever he was, he was not Raymond Reddington, and the beast had to be fed. It demanded blood for blood. It was the truth or Red’s blood, all her anger would accept.

Before Liz could scream again, a henchman rushed into the back door, “We need to move. Your people have found us.” 

Jennifer Reddington nervous as she was starting her foray into playing on the same level as Raymond Reddington asked, “Do we take him with?” 

Despite the woman’s nerves, Liz was amazed at how easily this was all coming to Jennifer. Liz could barely remember when she first meant Reddington, and the first few times she went up against in a game of wits. But she remembered the nerves and the amount of strength it took. Jennifer had barely batted an eye when Liz outlined her plan to get Red to confess the truth. 

“Yes.” Liz said, “You need to go. We will be in contact once we have _him_ somewhere else.” The word him spoke with venom. 

Turning to Ross’s man, “Go get Sutton and let him know we need to move now.” They had been so close to getting Reddington to telling the truth. So close. How did they track them this fast? It had all worked so well. Liz watched Jennifer walk out the back door, part of her wondered if they should leave Jennifer out of this. She was still innocent. Everything the man she knew as Raymond touched went to hell. He made everyone’s life worse for being in it. Could Jennifer be spared this fate? Or had Red’s gravitational pull already dragged them into the path of oncoming danger and death.

Ross walked into the room, closing the door so Reddington would not hear their conversation or see anything. “What is wrong?”

“The FBI is on the way,” Liz said already forming their next moves in her mind.

“We leave now.” Ross said, “And continue at another location.”

“The FBI will not give up looking for me.” Liz spoke, “If you leave me behind, I can inform you of the movements of the team, including his people.”

“But it will be harder to get him to talk. He is about ready to crack. Just a bit longer.”

“I know.” Liz said despising the fact that she knew it would take more time than they had to break Red this way, “But he will crack eventually.” Everyone did after all. But they needed the FBI off their back so that they would have the time to break him. 

The beast needed to see Red suffer, for all the pain he had brought to her life. The old Liz would be terrified at the emotions she felt, the desire for blood and vengeance. But she had long ago left behind the woman she had once been, the one that would have wilted at the idea of causing someone to suffer. That Liz would never have been willing to torture someone emotionally or physically. This Liz was looking forward to it.

“Where do we move to?” Ross had little connections left in the States after faking his death. He used what he could to secure the current location. 

“I know a warehouse that will work,” Lizzie said thinking it was fitting that they return to the place where she had saved Reddington from almost certain death. “Now you need to knock me out.”

“What?” Ross said worried about who he was working with. This woman was crazier than Reddington, and he feared her more than he feared wrath from Reddington. 

“He needs to believe your men have been hurting me, and my people need to believe there was a legitimate reason you left me behind.”

Ross nodded. One of his henchmen slammed his fist into Liz’s temple, knocking her unconscious. “Secure her. And get the van.” Ross ordered watching his men drag his new partner towards a pipe to cuff her. Ross wondering the entire time if this was going to work, what had he agreed to get himself into this time. He could just kill the imposter, Reddington. Wash his hands of it all, and return to his life. 

While he was intrigued as to who this imposter really was, and why he would take on someone like Raymond Reddington’s identity, was the answer worth dying for? At the Post Office, he had agreed because it was his only way out alive. There was hope that if got the answers he could use them to his advantage. He could take over Reddington’s empire, and return to what he once had been.

“Bag him and get him ready for transport,” Sutton said making up his mind to see things through a bit longer. He could always kill them later and the agent if needed. He had enough men on his side.

“Where is Elizabeth?” Red asked looking at the door that stood between him knowing Lizzie's condition. He was worried at Sutton's man's sudden appearance and then Sutton disappearing into the room. Had they pushed it too far? Should he have given the information up sooner? Was Lizzie ok? Alive? Seriously injured? 

“In the other room. We are leaving.”

“Sutton you used to be smarter than this. Did faking your death make you dumber?” Red spoke a twinkle in his eye as if he entertained, but in reality, he was terrified for Lizzie. He would not recover from her dying because of him again. “You know the FBI will keep looking for her. Until they find her. They will keep coming. They will not waste resources on me, not if they are sure you’ll kill me in the end. But, right now you are fighting two fronts. Between my people trying to find me and the FBI finding her. You will not win. Leave her behind and simplify the battle. Hope that my people end up being too incompetent to find me.”

“We could just end it all now.” Sutton smiled pulling a gun and aiming it at Reddington’s head.

“You and I both know you are not going to kill me,” Red answered not at all cowered by the weapon aimed at his head. Sutton wanted something, more than the truth, he was letting greed motivate him, and Red knew it. Red was saving this information for when and if he got truly desperate. If he could get Lizzie to safety, then he would never need it. Sutton could do what he wished to Red, and Red would be ok with it as long as Lizzie was safe.

===============

Leading the way into the warehouse, Dembe kept his gun aimed in front while he scanned the room for signs of Raymond and Elizabeth. The room was empty except for a chair. At the feet of the chair was a pair of plastic zip ties, likely utilized to secure someone to the chair. There was no sign of Raymond. Dembe was also comforted that there was no sign of blood. If Ross killed Raymond, it was not here.

Continuing through the warehouse, while the FBI team cleared the main room. Dembe went for the room across from the chair. The door was closed and locked. Taking a step back, Dembe put all his weight into kicking the door. Splintering the frame as it burst open, Dembe rushed into the room, searching the corners as he moved inside. On the floor, cuffed to a pipe, was unconscious. Moving towards the body, he gently checked the pulse, noting it was Lizzie. She was alive, a bit banged up from what he could see, but alive. 

Lizzie’s eyes fluttered open with a groan as she felt warm fingers on her neck.

“Was Raymond here with you?” Dembe asked studying Lizzie for signs of concussion or distress.

“Yes.” Liz said, “I think they took him. I heard them talking about disposing of him.”

“Did you hear anything else?”

“No. Ross was trying to use me to get Red to tell him something.” Liz responded closing her eyes against a wave of dizziness.

Ressler came into the room seeing the bruises and cuts on Liz’s face, “Jesus. Are you ok?” 

“Yeah.” Lizzie said, “Just a bit sore.”

“Let me get those off you,” Ressler said using his handcuff key to unlock the cuffs from Liz’s wrist. 

With Ressler’s help, Liz slowly sat up, rubbing her sore wrist.

Dembe was outside the room on a phone. “They took him. We need to search the video feeds leaving here, and also for how Ross might be leaving. Check planes, boats, and the usual.” Dembe knew it was a long shot, but it was one he was willing to take if it meant finding Raymond. 

“You should get check out by medical before we debrief,” Ressler said helping Lizzie to her feet. She was a bit unsteady and wondered if she had a concussion. 

“How is Samar?”

“We do not know,” Ressler said keeping an eye on Liz as he walked her out to the waiting ambulance. “No change I think.”

“How did you find us?”

“We tracked the van that brought Reddington here.” Ressler said, “Ross almost got away. He did a nice parlor trick with three white vans leaving the same place, all possibly having Reddington in them.”

Ressler kept speaking, “But Dembe noticed the first van, and figured out that was the one with Red. Aram was able to track it with the various traffic and CTV cameras.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How are we going to handle this?” Ross had his plan of going medieval on Reddington to get the answers they all wanted, but knowing his partner had all the power. Really it was not a partnership, Ross knew that Elizabeth may not have realized it yet. She knew Reddington better. She had spent years studying the man, as a profiler, she would know how to break him.

“We start with enhanced interrogation techniques. Start simple. Small spaces, loud noises, sleep deprivation, and temperature changes. We will need portable heaters and an air conditioner or some way to change the temperature.” Liz had been thinking about this while she was debriefing with Cooper and Ressler. Everyone thought she was at home resting and most of the team was busy looking for Reddington. Dembe promised to update her if they got a location on Reddington, and she trusted he would call before acting. Dembe was trustworthy, unlikely his colleague. 

“Where’s Reddington now?” Liz asked wanting to make sure he would not hear her. She had another plan, but it hinged on Reddington believing she was not part of this. 

“Upstairs.”

“We need to ensure where we put him is secure,” Liz said wondering how long this place would remain safe for their nefarious plans. “He has a knack for escaping.”

“We are working on that.” Ross said, “Bolts, chains, and other supplies are all being bought all around town and in a few other nearby towns to ensure it will not be suspicious.” 

“We have to make sure he does not know I’m part of this.” Liz said seeing the doubt in Ross’s eyes, he doubted her intentions, “I have another plan. If we cannot get him to talk, I have another way. But he has to think we will go through with it, and if he knows I’m part of this he will not believe it.”

“What is the other plan?” Ross said wondering if it was guaranteed to get Reddington to talk, why were they not using it? Keeping him like this was increased in risk each second it went on. Reddington’s people were good at finding people.

Liz responded, “I do not want to use it unless we have to. He will break, we just need to apply the right pressure.”

===========

Red’s muscles ached and quivered from the strain. They pushed him into a room, the hood still secured over his head. Forced to him to kneel, his hands were cuffed behind his back and pulled down past his feet. It forced him to kneel at a 45-degree angle. His legs secured in place by something, immobilizing him in this uncomfortable position. The rope around his neck insured he would maintain the position or strangle him. 

Whatever Ross hand-planned; Red knew his death would not come quickly. Ross wanted answers, but what Ross did not know was he gave up his only chance at getting the answers to the questions he wanted. Red was ready to give up when he heard Lizzie getting hurt. His secret was not worth her life, but his secret was worth his own life. If Dembe kept Lizzie safe, the secret would die with him. 

It might be easier too, death. He would not have to confront Lizzie and see the pain and betrayal in her eyes. What Dembe did not understand about the situations was telling Lizzie the truth, at any moment in their history, would only have confirmed her opinions of him. He was addicted to her, needing his regular dose of her light. Being close to her, knowing she was ok, and getting to interact with her often reminded him of why he became this monster. She simply made all of the sacrifices worth it, and most of all she made life still worth living. Telling Lizzie the truth about their shared past, who he was, it would be the end of his relationship with her. He’d lose his fix, his way home, access to the only decent thing left from his previous life. He could not live in a world without her. Telling her the truth would be the same as putting a bullet in his head. Lizzie and Cooper always reminded him how selfish he was after all. 

He should have corrected her when she came to him claiming he lied about not being her father. The DNA test, wherever it came from, was wrong. But at that moment, after losing Kaplan in the way he had, all of the strife from the battle with Kaplan, and Lizzie’s faked death, all of it just made it seem easier to accept. Lizzie had hugged him. Accepted him, as is, in those few seconds. It felt right. He knew then he did not deserve her acceptance, but he had craved it, desired it for so long that he allowed himself to let it happen. He gave in to his weakness, his need for Lizzie to see him for more than just a wanted criminal. 

The sound of a drill filled the room with a high-pitched squeal. Securing the room better? Whoever was drilling and banging did not talk. The noise only intensified the headache he had since the crash. To block out the pain, and to pass the time, he had tried to engage them in conversation a few times but got no response. 

Red startled at the sound of a loud metal bang from what sounded like a few inches away from him. 

“Move him in there.” Ross’s voice filtered into the room. “And use these.”

Red could not see what these were, but he felt hands, first undoing the rope around his neck and next whatever held his legs in place. He was dragged, someone kicking his legs out from under him when he tried to stand. 

They slammed him into something hard knocking the wind out of him. Someone grabbed his legs. What Red could not see as they were forcing him feet first into a small enclosure. 

The small enclosure was a kennel for a large dog that had metal sheets welded around it to make it more secure. No light would leak in. Outside, there was a small vent that had been welded to cover a hole cut into the metal sheeting. This vent would be utilized to control the temperature and level of humidity inside what amounted to a small metal box. Both a portable air conditioner and heater that was equipped to work as a humidifier as well had been rigged to push air into the vent, thereby, allowing for heat or cold air to be introduced into the small metal box. 

Inside, Red realized he was in some sort of small space. He could feel the walls against his arms, the ceiling was so low that in a kneeling position was forced to sit on the back of his legs. His head was forced down because the ceiling was so low he would not be able to be in a seated kneeling position. The length was just enough to allow him to rest his head at a weird angle against the cold metal floor. He felt the metal netting against his face. 

To finish, a pair of headphones was tapped to his head. The tape sticking to the hood over his head. A very loud screeching noise mixed with a high-pitched sound played over the headphones. He no longer heard the drills or anything else. Deducing the headphones were noise canceling. This was not going to help his headache, Red mused.

He felt like the air was flowing into the box at his ankles. Inside the box, it was already hot and getting worse. In his full 3-piece suit, he began to sweat within minutes. In what felt like a short amount of time, the inside felt like a hot humid day in a rainforest. Red was quickly getting drenched in his sweat. It was already difficult to breathe in the position he was in, but the hot air seemed to intensify. He was not claustrophobic, but the walls were closed in on him. Red felt agitated by this space. It was a trick, he knew. Make the suspect uncomfortable, enclosed spaces, hot temperatures, sense deprivation, all of these were techniques to break someone. Well, Sutton was in for a surprise, Red had survived these conditions and worse many times before. Each time, all he had to do was wait. He had faith his people would find him eventually, or the opportunity to escape would appear. The trick was keeping himself ready to take it.

================

“He is all secured if you would like to see his accommodations,” Ross said to Lizzie and Jennifer who were casually talking on the main floor of the building. Jennifer had joined them at the warehouse as soon as they were sure no one was following her. 

Both women followed Ross into the room, knowing they could continue to talk, as Reddington’s hearing would have been cut off with the noise-canceling headphones. 

“Wow.” Jennifer said studying the small metal box, “He fits inside there.”

“Yes.” Ross said, “Doubt its comfortable.”

“We should let him sweat it out for a bit.” Lizzie said, “And then have your men pull him out and start with waterboarding.” Lizzie said, “It is important that you do not let him sleep.”

“I doubt he can.”

“Just make sure the noises change on the headphones.” Liz said, “You also have the recording of me screaming in pain, right?”

“Yes.”

“Make sure to mix that in,” Liz said.

“After the waterboarding, make sure he returns to a cold crate,” Jennifer added, the darkness having overtaken her after Garvey’s death. She wanted whoever the man in the crate was to suffer. Ultimately, it did not matter if she found out the truth. Both her parents were dead because of this man, and now he would pay for it. The punishment should fit the crime.

“Besides the crate, we also have multiple locks on the only entrance to the room. We also were able to secure a piece of metal sheeting over the windows. There is only one way in the room, and one way out.” 

“Good.” Liz said, “Now we just have to make sure Reddington’s people cannot find us and we need to start scouting for alternate locations for when they do find us.” 

===========


	3. Chapter 3

Inside the metal box, Red tried to take his mind somewhere else. He had a raging headache, his head ached in time with his fast-beating heart. His throat felt raw, and his mouth was dry making it feel like his tongue was swelling. All of this despite the dampness inside the box. His suit soaked through in his own sweat. The world felt like it was spinning as waves of dizziness overtook him, even though there was no way to move inside the box. Dehydration was the culprit, but Red knew there was nothing he could do about it, except suffer through. How long had Ross kept him captive? How long had he been in whatever he was in? Why did he have to wear a 3-piece suit? How long did he have to wait for Dembe to find him? Was Lizzie ok? All of the questions swam through his head. Was this how Sutton planned to kill him? Cooking him to death inside of whatever? 

Shifting, as much as he could in the confined space, Red struggled to work his arm, long ago his muscles started to cramp, and pain settled into his shoulders and back. Red lashed out, for no other reason than he felt out of control, his arms smashed the side of the crate. The gunshot wound he had suffered at the hands of Ian Garvey ached, and Red wondered if it was sweat or blood he felt dripping off his chest. The screeches were growing in volume, encroaching on his thoughts. This was what hell was like? Who listened to this shit? It was the music kids listen to today. Dubstep or EDM or maybe it was both. Red thought about the Russian club he had been in just a few years before, where this was all they had played. It was the last time he did business with that contact. Horrible music choice. Fingernails on a chalkboard would be a more desirable sound than this music. 

A wave of dizziness overcame him again, forcing him to push his face further into the floor to ground himself. The world was spinning inside his head, and he needed to anchor himself. Lizzie had to be ok. He could not take losing her again. Why had Sutton moved her to another room when they questioned Red? Why not make him watch Lizzie get hurt, it would have been more effective.

The thought quickly left Red’s mind, concentration had been difficult at times since the car wreck. Despite the dehydration, Red found himself needing to urinate. He could piss himself, he knew it would eventually happen, but for now, he would fight that indignity. How many times had he found himself in similar circumstances? Some captor whether backed by a government or just a rival, holding him in uncomfortable conditions. 

Some forms of torture would start soon. Red wondered which of the players would win; Red, his captor, or death. 

Closing his eyes, Red focused on his heartrate. The music still found its way through, but it sounded far away. Just the bass vibrating through him.

A beautiful woman with blonde hair down to the middle of her back appeared in his mind. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” She smiled at him, her hand gently tenderly cupping his face. Her smile was always warm and welcoming. 

Despite it being an illusion, Red could feel her hands, and he pushed into the imagine kindness and warmth, only pushing his face further into the metal grates. Her gentle kiss on his lips, smooth like they always had been. Often leaving him wondering how she managed even in the cold days, her lips never seemed to chap. 

“I’ve missed you.” He leaned into her touch even knowing it was an illusion but desire the kindness and love all the same.

“That is annoying.” She spoke of the music smiling at him. “Who is it this time?”

“No one important.” His hands moved, coming up short because they were restrained. He wanted to grab her, hold her one more time. All those lonely nights he ached to hold her one more time. To feel her warm body next to his, reminding him that there was still some good left in the world. Some good still left in him. A deep sadness filled him.

“I’m sorry.” He spoke his voice cracking with the emotional pain. The memory was usually much more pleasant, a safe zone for his mind to retreat.

She looked concerned turning her head to study him closer, “Why?” He could feel her breath on his damp skin.

“I failed you both.”

“Never.” She spoke kissing his face again, “You could never fail us.”

“I did.” He said leaning in more, feeling the agony as he moved in the crate, “I lost sight of my mission.”

“We never wanted that.” She spoke her voice holding a hint of anger. It was the same voice she had used many of times before when he had done something to anger her. Yet, despite all of his flaws, she had always been patient with him and loved him unconditionally. “You did it despite our wishes.”

“I lost sight, I had to fix my mistakes. Right the wrongs.” He remembered how he never had to doubt if she would love him. She told him over and over reminding him when he tried to forget. She knew about his childhood about his life, and yet she loved him all the same.

“Always out for justice,” The smile returning to her face. A running joke between them because no matter what, he always had a true since of right and wrong. Warped at times, but he had a strong moral compass, he stuck to it. “And you only made things worse.” 

“I am still trying to fix it.”

“You will.” Her hands were comforting, all of the pain and thirst dissolvings. 

“I miss you.”

“We miss you too.”

=============

“Get him out of there,” Sutton said leaning against the wall. 

Opening the door, the men reached in grabbing Red by his armpits and pulling him out of the small opening. 

Red struggled as the world came back into focus and his illusion disappeared. He tried keep his feet under him despite the two men holding him up by his arms. The world was spinning inside the hood and his legs felt like jelly. His throat burned with thirst. His mouth was too dry to even swallow saliva to try to soothe his burning throat. 

“Strap him down,” Sutton said moving with the men to prepare the bench. Sutton waited until the men had Reddington strapped to the bench. Strong Velcro straps were pulled across Reddington’s chest, abdomen, thighs, knees, and ankles. He was not going to be moving anytime soon.

Sutton removed the tape that held the noise-canceling headphones to Reddington’s head, then removed the headphones. Sutton yanked the hood off. 

Red closed his eyes when the light invaded them. There was a naked bulb dangling overhead, and after hours of darkness, his retinas burned at the stimuli. A sharp shot of pain running from his eyes to his already painful brain. The pressure inside was building, would his head finally explode? It might feel better. 

“I hope you are thirsty.” Sutton taunted nodding his head at his men.

The men pulled a large round storage container full of water under where Red’s head hung over the edge of the bench. The bench was at a small angle, ensuring Red’s head hung lower than his feet. A thick bath towel pulled tightly over Red’s face. Another goon dipped a plastic container into the tub of water under Red’s head. Once full, he pulled it up and started to slowly pour the water onto the towel, where Red’s mouth was underneath. The towel held tight to his head, forced him to breath in the moisture, simulating drowning.

The ice-cold water instantly soaked the towel held tightly over him. The icy water making him more alert, as he focused trying to retain his energy by not needless struggling against the drowning feeling overtaking him. Logically, Red knew he was not dying. Waterboarding was nasty and could lead to secondary drowning (if not done properly), but he was not drowning right now. 

For sure, it felt like the time he had drown. Dembe somehow bringing him back to life. There was no Dembe this time, and he was on land. It still felt real.

Once in a while, they would stop. Pull the towel up just enough to allow Red to catch his breath for a minute. Sutton would demand to know who he was, and then it all started all over again. Not a second longer than a minute, they would pull the towel back down and start all over again. During the third round of waterboarding, one of the goons started to dump water on Red’s chest to further simulate the drowning experience. 

Fighting the restraints with all his might, Red got nowhere. So much for not wasting energy on a useless battle, but his body’s natural reaction to drowning took over. The restraints just rubbed his skin raw in places. He was drowning, he was sure of it. He needed it to stop, just needed one breath and he could continue. Was Lizzie ok? Where was she? He was drowning. Sutton was drowning him. This was a horrible death. Red lost complete control. His bladder emptied, and he felt the warmth spread over him. 

“Mother fucker.” One of the goons lashed out punching Red in the abdomen as the urine dripped onto his boots.

“What the…” Sutton asked glaring at the unprofessional reaction of the goon.

“He pissed himself.” The man said, “Got on my shoes.”

Red struggled, the air knocked out of his lungs by the punch, and only the moist air entering with each breath caused him to renew his strength and fight against the restraints. He could feel whatever was holding him down dig into his skin, and rub other parts raw through his clothes. One of the interrogators feared he would break free, and began to apply pressure to Red’s chest, by pressing down with the palm of his hands. 

Seeing the struggle, the interrogators ramped up the enhanced interrogation. They shorten the length of time they allowed Red to catch his breath and increased the time between breaks. 

Sutton watched as Red’s desperation grew. There was a plateau coming, Sutton knew, soon the desperation would not be enough to match the amount of energy Red had spent fighting to survive. His body would give out soon. It was an interesting battle to watch someone else go through. Sutton checked the cameras in the room to make sure they were still recording. 

Sutton called a stop to the interrogation after Red stopped fighting and lay limply on the bench. It had only been twenty minutes, more than enough for the first round. Most people, based on Sutton’s knowledge of the CIA utilization of these techniques, lasted only two to four minutes tops. 

“Enough,” Sutton said knowing if they pushed Ray anymore, they might cause serious damage.

The towel removed from Red’s face and the straps removed. His hands still secured behind his back, the goons did not think him much of a threat. They sat Red up, standing close and ready to react if Red found the energy to try something.

Red sat drenched from the head to his abdomen. Snot running down from his nose. He coughed and slowly caught his breath. 

“Who are you?” Ross asked sounding bored. 

Red just looked at Ross with his bloodshot eyes and said nothing. 

While the look Red gave him, made Sutton want to start the process all over again, he knew a second round so soon could risk secondary drowning. “Put him back in the box.”

With that, Red was hauled up to his feet. Grabbing his collar, a goon slammed Red into the wall causing Red to grunt in pain, as once again he felt precious air being forced out of his lungs. A punch to the gut doubled him over, and the goons pushed him back up forcing him against the wall.

A goon pulled the black bag over Red’s head, securing it in place by using a roll of duck tape to tape it around Red’s neck. Next the noise-canceling headphones were placed on Red’s head again and tapped. This time the sound coming through the headphones were a baby crying. Slamming Red into the wall one more time, the men then dragged him back to the metal crate. They pushed him back inside and slamming the door closed. 

The crate was freezing cold this time. Red felt frigid air rushing in the crate at his feet. Shivering, he tried to curl up more, even in this tight space to preserve his body heat. 

The baby screaming tugged at him. It reminded him of Agnes. He fought himself to not think about it. Agnes was safe with Scottie Hargrave and her people. There was no way Sutton would get to her. 

His abdomen ached where he had been suckered punched. There was likely a bruise there. This was accompanied by cramps in his arms, leg, and back muscles. The cold with the awkward position were aiding the cramps in becoming unbearable. Closing his eyes, even in the darkened hood, Red tries to force himself to focus on something other than the pain and the child screams. It was hard, as human beings respond instinctively to a child in distress. It causes an increase in heart rate and stress. Blocking out the child’s cries was damn near impossible. Especially when he sounded like Agnes cries. 

Agnes cries were one of the constants when Lizzie was in a coma. Red personally took care of Agnes. The nanny helped, but only with Red close by. After Tom and Lizzie had disappeared, Agnes did not understand. She missed them and reacted accordingly with crying. Red had always been the one to comfort her. Rocking her in a chair or his arms, singing to her, whatever he could do to get the little girl to calm down. How many nights had he spent next to Lizzie’s bed, holding her little girl because for the first month that seemed to be the only way Agnes would sleep a night through. There was no way Sutton could know this because Dembe and Aram were the only people who knew. But this was the perfect torture. Red kept reminding himself, a mantra he said to himself, out loud at times, that this was not Agnes cries. It was an unknown child.

Agnes is fine. This is not Agnes. 

Within minutes, his confused mind told him, he had to get out Agnes needed him. She was crying. Trying to stand, Red smashed hard into the metal netting grunting in pain. Agnes needed him. Where was she? Where was he?

===========

“How did it go?” Jennifer asked when Sutton walked into the room she and Liz were waiting in.

“We knew it was going to be a lengthy process.” Sutton responded noticing Liz he spoke to her, “You should be home.”

“I am going now.” Liz responded, “Keep me updated.”

“You have the burner?” Sutton asked.

“Yes. Make sure that is the only way any of you contact me. Dembe will be searching for him and will expect me to help. Make sure yours stays on and ready to be answered if they even get close to finding him.” 

“We can always move him to the basement of my bar for awhile.” Jennifer said, “Or Ian’s house.”

“No.” Liz said, “I am sure they will check those places. You should go back to your bar and run it as if nothing happened. I will try to make sure I am with whoever comes to question you.”

“They have no idea I am part of this,” Jennifer said surprised that Liz expected someone to question her.

“Yes but you have motive to hurt Reddington. Someone will check it out.” Liz explained. “You need to stay out of sight.” Liz said to Sutton. “We cannot have anyone catching a glimpse of you anywhere. Aram is very good at tracking people digitally. He will find you if you show up anywhere. And limit the entrances and exits from this place. I do not want anyone to have a reason to look into it anymore.”

Sutton nodded feeling like at some point Liz became the sole decision maker, and he was just along for the ride. He would hate to be her enemy. Reddington did not stand a chance against this woman. 

=========== 


	4. Chapter 4

“You are freezing.” She was a brunette again, just like she had been when he first meant her all those years ago. “What are they doing to you?”

Red could not respond to the delusion. The baby was crying, Liz was screaming. Agnes was hurt. He had to save them.

“Calm down.” The warm hands were on his face again pulling his attention. “It’s not real.”

“You are not real.” He groaned at her, his lungs still burned. 

“Focus on me.” She was trying to warm him and he almost felt her warmth of the figment of his imagination. “It’s not real.” 

It felt real, sounded real, he wished it was real. That she was here with him comforting him once again. How did they get Agnes crying? Did they record Lizzies' cries before? Lizzie.

“Where is Elizabeth?”

“She’s safe my love.” 

“I miss her.”

“She misses you too.” When his focus went back to the crying, “Focus on me. Breath with me. In and out. Just like that.”

Red listened to the illusion, watching her chest rise and fall, forcing himself to breath coordinated with her. 

“How did you get yourself into this one?” Her voice gentle and not as accusatory as the question sounded. He did not have to speak the name, she already knows who, “She will be the death of you one day.”

“Probably.” He focused on the figment the babies cry filtering through still. 

“Was what her mother did to you not enough of a lesson?” There was bitter anger there.

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say to the figment. He was sorry. Katerina had a way about her, it was like Medusae gaze hypnotizing everyone who looked her way. Lizzie had the same power, and she used it to her advantage. 

“Shhh.” Her warmth filled him, “I know.”

=============

Utilizing every resource available, Dembe had yet to find a single lead on where Sutton had taken his friend. Lizzie’s relayed words, that Sutton had discussed of disposing of Reddington, made Dembe’s stomach knot, had they killed his friend? Even Aram, who was sitting next to Samar’s bed in the hospital was working searching various camera feeds. There was no sign of Raymond or Sutton. No boat, train, plane, car, or another form of transportation could be traced to Sutton. Dembe felt Raymond was somewhere in the city. But short of searching door to door, there were no leads as to where Sutton had taken Raymond. 

Resisting the urge to call Elizabeth to ask her about what Sutton had said when she was with him, Dembe sighed as he tried to figure out what to do. Glen was already working on finding out all he could, but his latest update was not hopeful. The more time that passed, Dembe knew it decreased the probability of getting Raymond back alive. 

Cooper had checked in a few times, calling Dembe personally to ask if he had anything, and to let Dembe know the team was still working on finding Reddington. 

Why had Raymond agreed to give up his life for Elizabeth? She was his Achilles, and this time Dembe feared the arrow would strike the correct position. Checking his watch Dembe noted it was time to call Aram for an update. Dembe ignored the look from the tactical team, all ready and waiting orders. They just needed to know which door to knock down to save Raymond. Every man on the team would do just that, without question. Because Raymond was more than just their employer, and they knew he would do the same for them. That was how Raymond inspired such loyalty because of his undying loyalty to his own people. Elizabeth and the task force often missed this idea or were unwilling to believe that Raymond could look beyond his wants and desires, and care about others (despite the fact he had done this for almost all of the members of the task force). 

“Dembe, I wish I had better news,” Aram said answering the phone. He already knew who was calling and why. “They somehow managed to avoid cameras wherever they went or are going. I am doing all I can.”

“I know.” Dembe said, “I appreciate it, and so does Raymond.” 

“Give me the phone.” Dembe heard Samar’s voice over the line.

“Dembe, we will find him,” Samar said needing to feel like she was doing something. Sitting in the bed was driving her insane when one of the team was missing. Red would do the same for her, or at least he had according to Aram. 

“Thank you, Samar.” Dembe responded, “I am glad you are awake.” 

“Ok, that is enough.” Aram’s voice came through again, “You need to rest Samar. Doctors orders or you are never getting out of that bed.”

Dembe said his goodbyes, ever with the manners, and then hung up. Checking his watch, it was 24 hours since Red had disappeared. Lizzie would likely be awake now. Time to go visit her and ask questions about what Sutton had said and done while he had her. 

============

“How is it going?” Liz had called Sutton to get an update. She was not sure how much she could trust Sutton to stick to the plan. A lot was riding on breaking Red and getting the truth. The truth was all that mattered. Once she knew it, Sutton could do what he wanted with the imposter, but until than Lizzie needed the imposter alive. She needed the truth like she needed oxygen, she would die without having it. The beast inside would consume her, the truth would feed it and set it free.

“He has been in the box overnight. There were some bouts of screaming, a few hours of silence, but mostly he keeps saying the same sentences over and over.”

“What is he saying?”

“Agnes is fine. It is not Agnes. Where is Agnes?” Sutton said, “And then well into the early morning hours he was screaming for you.”

Lizzie felt a tug in her heart because she knew the imposter cared about her daughter, but not enough, Tom still died because of him. “Anything else?”

“No. All quiet outside.” Sutton responded. “We are going to pull him out here in a bit. Try a stress position. Maybe give waterboarding another go.”

“Make sure you give him some water.” Liz said, “We cannot risk dehydration.”

“Will do,” Sutton said he was becoming bored with this game. But Liz had the show for now, and he had his own backup plans if he needed them, “Anything else?”

“No.,” Liz said, “I will hopefully slip away from the team watching my apartment sometime later tonight.”

“We have it covered” after a pause Sutton added, “How long are we going to keep this up?” 

“You have somewhere else to be?”

“No,” Sutton responded, “But the longer we keep this up, the more likely his people are to find us.”

“I will warn you well in advance to anyone coming,” Liz said.

“What happens if they do not loop you into their plans?”

“Then you will kill him if they raid.” Lizzie said, “The truth will die with him, but he will be gone and unable to retaliate.”

Sutton pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it. Reddington had given up his life for this woman. What the fuck did he do to piss her off this much? She was so much like her mother, Sutton felt himself shudder at the thought of Katerina Rostova. 

“Anything else?” Liz asked. Before Sutton could ask his question, someone knocked on Liz’s door. “I have to go, someone, is here.”

Liz hung the phone up and slid it into her pocket. Walking to her door she checked the peephole and found Dembe outside. Gathering herself, she opened the door a look of concern on her face, “Did you find him?”

“No,” Dembe said standing outside studying Lizzie. She looked concerned, and the bruises on her face looked painful. 

“Come in.” She said moving to the side to allow Dembe pass. Closing the door, she said, “I was going to make some coffee.”

“I am sorry to bother you Elizabeth, but I wanted to go over what Sutton said when he had you.”

“He did not say much to me.” Liz answered fiddling with the coffee filters, “I think he purposely tried to say very little in front of me.”

“What about when they brought Raymond to the warehouse with you?”

“They put him in a chair and restrained him,” Lizzie said thinking back to what happened. “I think Sutton was on the phone or something. I spoke with Red telling him I was sorry for all of this. That I should have let it go when he told me. That I did not want to know what was in the bag anymore. Than Sutton had me moved to the room you found me in. His men kept hitting me. I screamed in pain a few times. But I could not hear or see what was happening in the other room.” 

“Was there anyone else there? Besides Sutton and his men?”

“No just Sutton and about four men. I think.” Lizzie said, “Some of it is kind of fuzzy.”

“What about when he left?”

“I did not see it. One of Sutton’s men punched me here.” Liz showed Dembe the bruise on her temple, “And it knocked me out. I woke up when you came into the room.”

“How did they transport you to the warehouse?”

“A green van,” Liz answered.

“Did they stop anywhere else?”

“No.” Liz answered, “We will find him Dembe.”

“I know we will,” Dembe said not as confident because it had been 24 hours, the probability of finding Red was rapidly decreasing. Sutton had no reason to keep Red alive for long. It only increased the danger to himself. Red would be dead soon if he was not already. 

“Let me go shower and we will go follow up on some leads together.” Lizzie said, “I think we should start back at the warehouse.”

“Elizabeth you should rest.”

“I will rest when we find Red.” 

The determination in her voice told Dembe he was not going to win this battle. He wanted to question Jennifer, and Elizabeth seemed to have connected with the woman. She could help with seeing if Jennifer had anything to do with this. If Ian Garvey had given Sutton the bones, that it was likely Jennifer knew something of Sutton. Maybe Sutton had tried to contact her. Maybe she was working with Sutton. 

============

“It’s quiet,” Sutton said standing in the room where they were keeping Red in the metal crate.

“He quieted down again about twenty minutes ago.” One of the goons said standing next to the crate. “We opened to check, he’s alive and breathing.”

“Let’s get him out.” Sutton said, “We are going to try a stress position.”

“Why aren’t we beating this out of him? Or using chemicals.”

“Keen does not want to use too invasive yet.” Sutton answered, “Plus we need him to be able to talk.”

The men did not believe Sutton’s statement, but no one called him on it. They did follow his order though. They started to extract the quiet prisoner out of the metal box. He was shivering, his clothes cold to the touch. Grabbing him the hauled him out and dragged him across the room slamming him face-first into the wall. This elicited a grunt from the prisoner. 

“Take the headphones off,” Sutton ordered switching out the SD cards in the cameras. 

“How are you doing Raymond?” Sutton taunted. “feeling chatty yet?”

Red did not answer, his entire body hurt, and he could not stop shivering. The illusion of having left him hours before. Each time it was harder to bring her back. He still heard the babies cries even with the headphones off. A few times he had tried to move, to get up, as he had done many nights to go check on the baby. Each time the crate restricted his movements.

His chest burned deeply, and the pressure in his head was the most intense he had ever felt it. Exhaustion was creeping in, his body was already exhausted but his mind was joining his body. It was difficult to concentrate. To remember where he was and what was going on.

“Uncuff him.” The door was locked from the inside, using a series of combination locks to ensure Reddington could not escape even if he managed to overpower the people in the room. There were no guns either. 

When his hands were uncuffed from behind his back, they fell to his side. Red grunted as the blood rushed back into his swollen hands. His shoulders and arms hurt from the strain of having his arms restrained for so long behind his back. He could taste blood running down his throat, and he felt it on his face. A bloody nose, hopefully, it was not broken.

“Who are you?” Sutton asked, “Come on. You look like you’ve had enough.” A pause, letting the words sink in, “ You are too old and too out of shape to keep this up. Just answer the question and we can go about our different ways.”

Red still did not speak. Partly because his throat and mouth were so dry he was not sure he could form words, but also because it was his way of withstanding what Sutton was pushing on him. There were a few ways to deal with torture. You could be all bravado and act like it did not bother you. Annoy your interrogators. This worked for people who had an ego. It would annoy them they were not getting to you. It was also an easy way to push an interrogator to kill you if you knew recuse was not going to happen.

The alternative was to remain silent. This only worked with interrogators that were professional and who were more modest. If successfully breaking you did not define them, the silence was the best method to deal with them. He had used it a few times in the past. It ensured him a chance to survive long enough to be recused. Sutton only wanted the information to settle his curiosity, and the men interrogating him were professionals. 

“Ok get him in position,” Sutton said taking a seat in a chair wanting to watch for awhile.

The men pulled Red back from the wall they had slammed him into moments before. Once he was a little more than five feet away from the wall, they kicked his legs apart until they were a little beyond shoulder length, leaning him forward, one of the goons pulled his arms up so that all of Red’s weight was being held up solely by Red’s fingertips. 

“Hold that position or you will be punished.” The goon said standing off to the side for when Red’s hands would give out. Given how swollen they were, the goon expected at most the prisoner would last a half-hour in that position. It was the goon's job to ensure Red did not fall too far. They had already done damage when they slammed him into the wall face first, they had to limit the damage to Red’s head, face, and neck to ensure he could talk.

“Come on. Is your secret worth all of this?” Sutton taunted from his chair. “Just tell me who you are, and this will all be over. Otherwise, you leave it to me to create a narrative. How about this one, I am sure it will go over with the folks you have made deals with in the past. You were a deep-cover agent, stole the real Raymond Reddington’s identity after killing him. Using his identity, you went out into the world gathering intel for the U.S. government. Feeding them names and places. The work you did with the FBI task force would also feed into that. Hell, I would not have to kill you myself. Just hand you over to some of your old contacts. They would do it for me.”

Red grunted his arms were shaking from the strain on his swollen fingers. Pins and needles had set in again, rushing down his arms. Red wondered if all of this shit could have been avoided. If he had taken Dembe’s recommendations and told Lizzie the entire truth years ago. Would she have pushed him out of her life? She had done that already. When she faked her death, she made it clear she wanted him gone. Yet there he is. Even after recovering Agnes, there he was. He once told her, all she had to do was tell him to go, and he would leave her alone for good. When had she realized he would never follow through? When had she started to resent him so much? She had kept the fulcrum from him, to ensure he stayed around. Exactly when did that change? When did it all unravel? 

The strain on his arms too much, the muscles gave out, bracing himself to smash into the wall to physically exhausted to raise his own hands to stop his descent. A pair of hands stopped him, grabbing him around the waist and pulled him back into position. A punch to his unprotected ribcage sent him downwards again, but once again the hands stopped him from completely collapsing and put him back in position.

Sutton was talking, but Red was no longer listening. He was focusing on keeping the position he was in. Everything needed his full concentration. Maybe he was too old for this? Right now, he could not feel his fingers anymore. It was only a matter of time before they gave out again. The muscles burned in his arms. His chest felt tight. It hurt to breathe. It was stuffy and hot in the room. Just a bit before, he would have welcomed the warmth, but the change from extreme cold to hot was not helping. The suit was starting to get too warm again. His legs were sharking, lack of food, sleep, and water all contribute to the deterioration of his body. Just as he had done during hell week in boot camp, he rallied what little strength he had and soldiered on. Dembe would find him. Dembe always saved him.

His fingers gave out again, and he was once again caught, punched in the kidney’s and returned to the position. This continued on and on. The interval between his fingers giving out getting short and shorter. The punches alternating between his kidneys and ribs. This kept going until the point that Red’s hands would not hold him up at all, his legs completely gave out. 

“Less than an hour Raymond. I expected more from you.” Sutton said sounding terribly disappointed. 

Red was forced into a kneeling position. His hands were brought above his head, cuffed together again. “Keep your hands up and back straight.”

Each time Red leaned forward or tried to lower his hands he was kicked in the back of the abdomen. It did not take long for his knees to ache in time with each heartbeat. 

Sutton left the room leaving his men to keep Red in the position until he returned. These methods were not going to break Reddington. They either needed to ramp up the methods, use Liz’s plan B, or it was time for his backup plan.

=============

Dembe and Liz had walked through the warehouse together. Liz retold Dembe everything she remembered, and they once again checked the outside for anything that could be helpful. All they found were the tire marks of whatever had taken Red out of the location. A car of some sort, maybe a van. There were a lot of tire marks. They searched the area around for any cameras, and they did not find anything helpful. Even the few squatters they found had no idea anything had happened the day before. 

“I do not understand how they just disappeared. How did Sutton know where cameras were and how to avoid them?” Liz said, “How can a single camera in this city not catch a glance of any of them.”

“Aram says the search can take a couple of days. He is still running the face recognition program on all feeds. Sutton will show up at some point.” Dembe was not sure if this was before or after Sutton killed Raymond.

“What are we missing?” Liz asked feeling confident Dembe believed she was stressed about finding Reddington. 

“We should move on.” Dembe said, “Go talk with Jennifer as you suggested.”

Liz followed Dembe back to the car neither of them speaking. The silence was uncomfortable both of them have very different thoughts about Reddington. Liz wondered if Sutton had broken him yet. Her desire to watch him suffer at the hands of Sutton would feed the beast inside. The anger over all he had done to ruin her life after entering it, Tom’s death, and so many other things boiled over and watching him suffer felt right. Like he was getting his just desserts.

On their way to Jennifer’s Dembe spoke first to break the silence. “Have you checked on Agnes recently?”

“I spoke with Scottie last night.” She had called to check on her daughter and to put into motion possible using Agnes later. Liz also questioned Scottie about her knowledge of Reddington. It was her subtle attempt to see if Scottie knew about Reddington’s true identity? Whoever he might be. 

“How is Agnes?”

“Good.” Liz said, “She is doing well in pre-school and is happy.” 

“When do you think you will return to her?” Dembe knew it was a touchy subject, but the threat to Agnes was gone. Liz knew who killed Tom, that person had been killed. There was no danger left. Liz seemed to have dealt with Tom’s death, at least the best she could. 

“After we find Red.” Liz said, “I think.” 

The silence returned between them. The sound of the tires on the road and the noises of the city picked up as they approached. 

Liz spoke first much later, when they were closer to Jennifer’s bar, “Why did …”. Liz stopped trying to find the right words, “Why did he never tell me the entire truth?”

“He is afraid,” Dembe said.

“Of what? Me.”

“Of losing you,” Dembe responded.

“He was losing me by not telling me the truth.”

“He is human.” Dembe said, “And subject to mistakes like all of us. He agonized over telling you everything, but he believed you needed to find it out on your own.”

“Is it that bad?” Liz wonders out loud.

“When I meant Raymond, he was an angry man. His actions were dictated by his emotions.” Dembe turned his turn signal on indicating he was getting onto the on-ramp for the highway, “When he saved me, I saw a different part of him. There was more there than the callous killer everyone thought him. He saved a kid because it was the right thing to do. What monster does that? I saw there was something more there. Over time, as I recovered, I learned more about his past.”

“He told me you are in his life, to prove to him there is still good in the world, good in him.”

“Partly, but he is also my brother. I lost my family, and Raymond gave me another.” 

“But none of this tells me why he would not tell me the truth. Why he does not want me to know what is in the bag?”

“Raymond is not proud of everything in his past. He is human. How would you feel if your mistakes were dragged out of the past for all to know?” There was more to it than that, but Dembe was not going to tell Liz. It was not his place.

“We have to find him Dembe,” Liz responded because it is what she would have said before Tom died. She would have burned the world to find Red before Tom died. Now, she helped keep Red out of the world. To find the truth, but to ensure he could no longer hurt anyone else. She would use all the lessons he had taught her, all of her observation of him, to ensure she got down to the truth. The imposter would break and then she would decide what to do with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Sutton let hours pass before he went to check on the Red. Red was no longer maintaining a perfectly straight back, and his hands were barely above his head. The goon nodded at Sutton when he walked into the room. There were only so many times they could force the exhausted prisoner back into the same position. He had given the prisoner some leeway because he knew it would be impossible for the prisoner to keep the position.

“Get him up and strip him,” Sutton ordered taking his seat again in the chair.

Red did not struggle as he was pulled to his feet, and his hands were uncuffed. His coat was pulled off, followed by his vest, and his dress shirt. He had a white t-shirt on underneath. It was left on for now. He had no energy to struggle against them. He did not think his fingers would allow him to help much either. His hands were swollen, and his fingers were fat and useless. 

“Kick your shoes off.” The goon ordered holding onto Red’s arm to ensure he stayed standing.

Red struggled to get his shoes off, his knees and legs were aching. Once they were off, he did pull away when a pair of unknown hands grabbed him by his waist and started undoing his belt, then the button and zipper on his pants. The pants were ripped down off his body. He stepped out of them. Now only his boxer shorts, t-shirt, and socks were left on him. His boxers stuck to him uncomfortably. He could smell his own body odor.

“Everything,” Sutton said watching on.

The guard ripped Red’s shorts down his legs, leaving him exposed to the world, and then pulled his socks off his feet. Lifting one leg after the other. His white shirt was pulled over his head, causing Red to grunt in pain. 

“What is this?” Sutton asked getting up noticing a bloodied bandage cover a portion of Red’s chest. 

Red was not sure what Sutton was asking about. The wound had become part of the ache of his body. 

“Pull the bandage back,” Sutton said worried about the state of the bandage. He did not know Reddington had a wound, otherwise, they would have checked it long before now.

The guard pulled the bandage back, wincing when he saw the angry red raw wound on Red’s chest. The bullet wound was red and appeared to be in the early stages of infection.

“When did this happen?” Sutton asked touching Red’s shoulder. 

Red did not respond. 

“Clean him up,” Sutton ordered knowing he was not going to hear from Red. He walked out of the room, leaving his men to hose down Red and get him cleaned up. Sutton was angry because Elizabeth Keen had not told him everything. He called her from the main floor letting the anger seething through him. If the wound got infected, Reddington would die long before they got the truth. 

Of course, Elizabeth did not answer the phone. Sutton was not sure what to do. They would not have long once the infection took over. They needed to get the truth now.

“Sir.” One of the guards came down to speak with him. “It appears an infection is setting in the wound. We can try to clean it, but he will need antibiotics.”

There was the sound of a commotion upstairs, screams and the sounds of things crashing. Both Sutton and the guard rushed upstairs.

The cold water used to hose Red down provided him enough energy to fight back free of restraints, knowing that he had to fight to try to escape. The numbers were not on his side, but he had been lucky a few times before. He fought with every last bit of his being, lashing out with his fist, ducking, and blocking punches. Each movement trying to get him closer to the door, and hopefully closer to returning to Lizzie and Dembe. A little bit of hope grew inside, as he took out two guards, his fist ached and white-hot pain shot through his hand with the next punch to a guards face. Blood exploded from the guard's nose. 

The surprise of his attack was on his side, but eventually, the guards were able to work together to tackle him to the ground. The guards were not trying to subdue him. Instead, they were getting revenge, lashing out to any part of Red’s body they could reach.

“What the hell is going on?” Sutton screamed stopping his men from beating Red to death.

“He tried to escape.” One of the men said out of breath. His eyes forming a bruise and swelling from a wicked punch from Red.

Sutton walked up to Red, who’s right leg was splayed out in front of him, a guard sitting on his back holding him to the ground, though the guard was unnecessary because Red was dazed and the energy well he managed to tap into was now dry.

“You should have behaved.” Sutton smashed his foot down onto Red’s knee causing Red to scream out in pain. 

“Get him up.” Sutton ordered, “Finish cleaning him up.” Sutton stayed to observe his men's work. They were more cautious with Reddington this time around, no one underestimating Reddington’s ability to get out of these types of situations. 

They hung him up by his arms stretched above his body. His feet did not touch the ground, causing pain in his arms, wrist, and shoulders as those appendages were taking all of his weight. 

Spraying him off with cold water from a garden hose, the guards worked quietly and professionally. Once he was deemed clean enough, his pants were returned, and he was lowered to the ground. The knee that Sutton stomped on was unable to bear weight.

“Put him in the chair so his wound can be cleaned.”

Dragging Red to the chair the guards threw him into it, securing his hands, with cuffs. His legs were also secured this time, and another rope ran around his neck, and down the back of the chair to one of the legs, forcing Red’s head back at a painful position. 

One of the guards was trained as a field medical and tended to Red’s old bullet wound. It was infected. Cleaning it out the best it could be done in the field, the guard re-bandaged the wound and then administered an antibiotic into Red’s bicep. He was not gentle through the process, and it left Red panting from pain and the strain of the rope on his neck limiting his airway. 

Sutton walked up to Red and smacked him in the stomach, eliciting a grunt from Red. “We could end this all now. Just tell me who you are, and we can all go our own way.”

Red did not speak, his eyes stayed fix in one position.

“Ray, you do not want to see what happens when I get desperate. We both know with each passing day the FBI is getting closer to locating you. I will make sure that does not happen before I get my answers.”

“I will get them.” Sutton said when Red did not respond, “I have not even scratched the surface of what can and will do to you to get what I want. I found out something interesting about Agent Keen. Given that you were willing to trade your life for hers, I wonder what you would do for her daughter.”

Red tried to remain calm at the mention of Agnes. He would kill Sutton if he brought that little girl into this. She had nothing to do with it at all. She was truly innocent. But he could not let Sutton know he was getting close. 

“So what do you say?” Sutton said, “Do I put a team on securing the girl and you can catch a few hours of sleep while they work, or do you answer my questions now?”

Red glared at him, the best he could. Scottie Hargrave would keep Agnes safe. The woman would not let another child get taken on her watch. Red had to put his faith in Scottie. 

“He looks thirsty.” Sutton said smiling down at Red, “Continue with the waterboarding. Do not stop until I tell you. If he wants to talk, come get me.”

Sutton left the room, listening to the angry men moving Red from the chair to the waterboarding planks. Sutton knew it would be particularly brutal this time because most of the men in the room had visible bruises from Red’s attempt to escape. They would want their revenge.


	6. Chapter 6

Ressler was nervous, it was new for him, he had felt it a lot recently. Dialing the number he waited for someone to answer. Cooper had sent Liz home on leave for at least three days. She had a concussion and needed to rest. Cooper was naïve if he thought Liz would rest while Reddington was missing. 

“Agent Ressler.”

Dembe knew his number, of course, Dembe knew his number, Ressler thought rolling his eyes. “I just wanted to check and see if there was any news on Reddington?”

“No,” Dembe answered giving nothing away.

“We do not have anything yet either,” Ressler said looking at the cool beer on his table. He knew that it likely meant Red was dead or dying somewhere. Sutton had little reason to keep Red alive for long. They were old enemies. Red had been partly responsible for Sutton’s supposed death. It had happened shortly before Ressler had taken over the hunt for Reddington. “Is Liz with you?”

“No. She is at home resting.” Dembe responded. Dembe had debated with Elizabeth shortly after they questioned Jennifer. The beating she had taken at the hands of Sutton’s men left her with a concussion, and she needed to rest. After the event of the last year, and her previous head trauma, Dembe knew she could not be out there looking for Red with him. Red would not forgive him if she got hurt in their pursuit to save him. Dembe had eventually convinced her to come home and rest, and he promised to contact her if they had any new information.

Little was gained from Jennifer. Dembe felt like there was more there, but Elizabeth did not agree. The nerves that Jennifer exhibited were natural, and Dembe knew that to be true at least. But he felt like there was more. Why would Ian Garvey give the bones to Sutton and not Jennifer? When he was running from the after the wreck, Garvey had gone to Jennifer. She meant something to him. She had to know something, Dembe knew it, but he could not push too hard with Elizabeth there. He wanted to go back, but he had promised Elizabeth to leave the girl alone, that she had nothing to give them. Any further contact would just endanger her. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Ressler finally got the reason he called. “Aram gave me some video footage to go through, and I did not find anything.”

“Agent Ressler, we have it under control,” Dembe said not wanting to drag the FBI Agent in. Dembe expected Samar and Aram's request for help, but Resslers had been a bit surprising. The Agent seemed to still harbor hatred towards Red, from the years of the cat and mouse game between them.

“If there is anything let me know.” Ressler said, “I might think Red’s a son of a bitch, but he willingly gave up his life for Liz.” It was the closest Ressler would come to acknowledged his begrudging respect for Red. 

“I will let you know,” Dembe said ending the call. He was not sure where to move next. He had chased down everything he could, and nothing panned out. With each passing minute, he knew the probability of rescue was turning into a recovery of Red’s body.

============

In the crate again, Red was beaten down. There was not much left to him. His mind wandered from topic to topic. He heard screams, Lizzies, Agnes cries, and other noises through the headphones. If they would all just shut up for a moment and let him rest his eyes, just for a second, he would know how to save them all. There had only been two missions. The two missions were not mutually exclusive and both received the same zealous attention. Keep Lizzie safe and revenge. As the years passed, the desire for revenge slowly burned out of him. Lizzie’s presence in his life helping him get comfortable with the past. He would never let it go, but he was able to live with it. The demons inside no longer called for blood. That was until Lizzie’s fake death. Aram visiting, requesting his help, had awakened the demons, and blood was all they wanted. He fed them, and once you feed the beast, they expect more and more. His beast was never happy. Even after he fed the beast the Judas in his midst, Mr. Kaplan, the beast called for more blood.

The calming presences of Lizzie after they had recovered Agnes, and the knowledge that she was alive, had caged the beast inside. She never knew just how much power she held over him, or maybe she did, and she was too good to ever use it against him.

Shifting inside the box, trying to remove the weight from his knee Sutton injured, Red tried to block out the noises. He needed to rest. The sleep deprivation was wreaking havoc on his thoughts and he knew it was not helping his concussion. However, each time he closed his eyes all he saw was the blood-drenched house. The substance that gave life, covered the floor. The smell of that fateful day filling his nostrils making him gag. 

Screams he did even know came from him filled the quiet dark hours of the early morning. He woke guards who had slumbered outside. No one went to check on him. As long as he was screaming he was alive. 

==========

Lizzie finally had returned Sutton’s call, Red’s screams background noise of their conversation.

“What is going on?” Liz had asked hearing the screams. It was around 2 a.m. She had watched the videos a third time, studying Red’s reactions. Trying to figure out what would break him and enjoying the anguish.

“Nothing. He is in his box.” Sutton responded having been woken by his men when Liz called. “How is the search?”

“They have nothing.” Liz said, “Jennifer did a great job today.”

“Good.” Sutton glared at the ceiling above him. “I called earlier because he has an infection.”

“From what?”

“Looks like a bullet wound to me.”

It was then Liz remembered that Garvey had shot Red. Or at least shot at Red who had dropped before Liz, Dembe, and Red had fired back. She had forgotten about the wound. Red had acted like it was not there. “Garvey shot him.” Liz responded, “He had a concussion too.”

“That would have been nice to know,” Sutton responded glaring at the wall. The concussion could complicate things. He wanted Red dead, but he wanted him dead after he got his answers. 

“I forgot.” Liz honest response held little emotion. If she were in her right mind, it would have horrified her she had forgotten. “How bad is it?”

“It could complicate things.” Sutton said, “We cleaned it out and gave him an antibiotic, but if it gets into his blood and sepsis sets in. He’s a goner.”

“How is it going?”

“We are almost 72 hours in and he’s not saying anything helpful.”

“Maybe leave him in the box for the next 24 hours. Give him water, but leave him inside.”

“None of this is working.” Sutton said, “You had an alternative plan. I think it is time we use it.”

“Not yet.” 

“Why not?” Sutton asked getting angry because if Elizabeth had a way to get the answer, why not use it? This all could end.

“My daughter does not need to be dragged into this just yet. I want to leave her out if I can.” 

“But it will break him?”

“Yes,” Liz said closing her eyes, she knew time was running out. With the infection, Red’s concussion, and the sounds on the phone of his screams, she knew time was running out. Eventually, they would fuck up, and Red would die, and so would the answer. “Let’s give it 24 more hours. Keep up the pressure on him. Do what you need to, and if he does not break, I will personally/ bring Agnes to stop this.”

“Ok,” Sutton responded knowing he had no power here. “We are going to amp up things.”

“That is fine, just do not kill him.”

“We won’t.” Sutton ended the call wondering how this all got to this point. Had he thrown in with the wrong person? She was willing to torture someone who had willingly walked into a situation to save her knowing it could very likely end in their death. Raymond, or whoever he was, had traded his life, without so much as a second thought. She had orchestrated it and continued to orchestrate his torture. If she was willing to do that to someone who cared that much about her, what would she do to someone who had no connection? 

===========

A short time after the phone call ended so did Red’s screams. Silence reclaimed the warehouse. Red inside the box was pleading, begging, in tears to be forgiven. 

“Forgive me.” Red pleaded with the ghost in his mind. “I’m so sorry.” 

What Red did not know was that the extreme conditions of his confinement along with the stress from it had caused his concussion to worsen. The symptoms of his concussion intensified. The exhaustion, confusion, inability to control his emotions, headache, dizziness, and nausea were all the result of the concussion. The infection in the bullet wound was also taking hold too, causing his internal temperatures to rise with a fever. Dehydration only added to the other symptoms. His tortures would miss all of these symptoms because they were also symptoms of torture and sleep deprivation. 

The hallucination was not just his usual coping mechanism. While the woman had been his coping mechanism for many other tortures, this time there was more to it. The realness of her was the result of his declining health and sleep deprivation. There was a ticking time bomb that would eventually go off, and when it did death would be the last to blink.


	7. Chapter 7

Sutton waited until midday to have Red removed from the box. This time they secured him to a chair. Time to ramp up the physical side of the interrogation. Sutton did not take joy in these actions, though he had expected too. First Red was given water, forced to drink the entire lukewarm bottle. Once the bottle was finished, a plastic bag was pulled over his head and held tight. Red struggled against the restraints, cutting deeper into his bleeding wrist. The air quickly left the bag, and it was stuck against his face. Sutton mused Red’s face through the bag looked like Edvard Munch’s _The Scream_. The mouth opened wide in a scream, but no sound accompanying it because there was no air for the vocal cords. 

The guard let go of the bag before Red passed out. Red hunched over gasping for air.

“Who are you?”

This was repeated over and over. The blood vessels under Red’s eyes burst from the repeated oxygen deprivation. It looked like little needle pricks under his eyes, the red blotches. 

Sutton leaned over Red grabbing his jaw in a tight grip to force Red’s attention, “Who are you?”

Red eyes blinked, but he did not speak. He did try to pull away from the bruising grip, but he was too weak. 

“I can keep doing this. How long do you think you can last?”

Red mumbled, Sutton almost did not hear him, “Megan I’m sorry.”

============

Another day had passed, and Dembe had no leads on where Sutton took Raymond. Glen was working full time on trying to trace anyone or anything close to Sutton. The task force also had no leads, and Dembe could see the hope draining from them. Raymond had survived worse, but everyone’s luck runs out eventually. Shaking his head, Dembe knew he could not think this way, they would find Raymond. 

Grabbing his phone Dembe dialed the number from memory.

“Ressler.” The voice on the other end answered.

“If you were serious about helping, I could use help,” Dembe said knowing this move would likely anger Raymond, but if led to them finding Raymond than it would be worth it.

“I am.” Ressler said, “I can meet you in ten.”

Dembe gave Ressler the address he was at, not wanting to discuss his plan over the phone. He needed to look the agent in the eyes to see how committed he was to the idea.

Dembe paced waiting for Ressler to showed up. The minute Ressler knocked Dembe was the door ready for him.

“Would you like something to drink?” Dembe asked, always a gracious host. One of the many things Raymond had taught him.

“No, I’m good.” Ressler said, “What can I do to help?”

“Elizabeth.” Dembe said, “I expected her to be fighting her every step of the way to get her to rest. But she is doing it on her own.”

Ressler understood, ever since Tom’s death, Liz had been off.

“I can try to approach her, but she will expect it from me,” Dembe said.

“You want me to?”

“Yes.” Dembe said studying the agent, “I do not know if she is involved or not, but she is holding something back. She knows something. It may be nothing, but it could be important.”

“Do you think she helped Sutton?”

Dembe did not answer right away, he did not know. He did not think her capable of it. She and Raymond had fought in the past, but this was an extreme reaction. “I do not know.” 

“I do not know how much I can get from her.” Ressler said, “She has been different since Tom’s death.”

“I know.” Dembe said, “But all I can ask is you try.”

“I will.”

==============

Liz was anxious to go back to the factory. She wanted to know how Suttons enhanced interrogation was going. Already days into the process, Red’s defenses had to be weakening. Everyone broke, and it was only a matter of time. Liz felt it had to happen. She needed it to happen because she did not want to drag Agnes into this mess. Sutton was right, if they kept this up Dembe would find them eventually, or they would push Red too far and the answers would die with him. 

What Liz had not thought about when this planed formed, was what would happen after. After Red gave them the answers they wanted, what then? He would have to be killed, Liz knew it. They would have to kill him to ensure he did not seek revenge against her. Strangely, it did not seem to matter to her. She tried on the idea, and it did not bring the pang of sorrow or worry she used to feel when he was in mortal danger. 

A knock on the door took Liz out of her mind. Who would be here? Getting up, Liz grabbed the gun off the table and walked to the door. She cautiously checked the peephole and found her old partner on the other side.

“Ressler.” She greeted him standing in the doorway and not letting him in.

“I thought I should come to check on you. You got pretty beat up the other day and have not been around much since.”

“Yeah.” Liz said, “Sorry, my head. I did not think I could be much help with my brain trying to implode.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Ressler said shifting uncomfortably out in the hallway. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah sorry.” Liz said stepping aside, “Do we have anything new on Reddington’s possible location?”

“No.” Ressler said, “I think Aram is starting to lose hope. We went through all of the footage and there is just no trace of them.” Ressler said studying the sprucely furnished apartment. 

“I would offer you something to drink, but I do not have anything.”

“That’s fine. I just wanted to check on you and see if you felt like going over what happened with Sutton again. Especially after he got you out of the building.”

“Ok.” Liz said, “I should call Dembe too and see if he has gotten anywhere.”

“He hasn’t.” Ressler responded, “I just checked in with him.”

“Oh. You two talk?”

“Just general updates is all,” Ressler said sounding annoyed. 

“What was that?” Liz asked picking up on Ressler’s mood. 

“I just think the task force has other things to do.” Ressler said, “We should not be focusing on tracking Reddington down. There are so many other cases and people worth our focus.”

“Really.” Liz said working up her fake anger, “After all Red has done for us?”

“Yes.” Ressler said, “He chooses to give himself up to save you, and he made that decision. He was the one who helped Sutton get him away without being detected. He made his bed.”

“He did it to save my life.”

“I know. Not the first time he’s done that, and he’s always managed to escape before. I am sure he can do it again.”

Something felt off in the conversation, Liz kept up her part. “Then why are you here?”

“Cooper asked me to go over it all with you again. See if you might have any new insight into Sutton. Where he might have gone with Reddington.”

========

The back of Red’s skull connected with the concrete wall when the thug slammed him into it. It hurt, knocking the air out of his lungs and making his bruised side come alive with pain. The word sawm before his eyes, he would have collapsed to the ground if it were not for the goons bruising grip on his arms holding him up.

“Come on.” Sutton said, “This is getting tedious.”

Red did not answer and if he wanted to respond he would not be able to, a fist connected with his stomach, doubling him over. The guard yanked Red up by his formerly white shirt. Holding Red up as he tried to bend into himself in agony. 

“I am not sure how much you have left.” Sutton walking over to stand face to face with Red. “You are up there in years, and how much longer until your body gives out?”

Sutton was so close, Red could smell his breath. Red was biding his time, the moment Sutton was within striking distance, Red moved, throwing his head forward connecting with Sutton’s face. The pain in his skull was worth it. Trying to lash out a second time, a hand wrapped around Red’s neck, and the guard slammed Red into the wall a second time. This time the back of Red’s head snapped hard into the concrete wall sending black dots swimming into Red’s vision. 

“Do not knock him out,” Sutton said pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket to stem the blood flow from a cut over his eye. “Well played,” Sutton said unphased by the desperate actions by a desperate man.

One of the goons came into the room, “Sir, you are needed.” 

“I think he’s thirsty,” Sutton said leaving the room to see who needed him.

Fighting the guards with what little energy he had, Red struggled knowing he was wasting his energy, but it was all he could do. The guards got him secured to the waterboarding bench and started over again. This time they did not take an easy on him. Between pouring water over his clothed covered face, they started to lash out hitting him in the chest, stomach, and sides. 

Red had screamed in pain a few times. He knew they were causing serious damage to his body. At least one of his ribs was likely broken, if not more. 

This went on for a while, and when they finished, the guards pulled Red to his feet. Though Red could barely stand, the guards on either side held him up. Moving towards the metal box, the guards stopped short. 

One of the guards kicked Red’s injured knee, sending him to the ground with a groan. Sutton appeared in the room with a gun. 

“Hold him down,” Sutton said walking behind Red, pressing the gun into the back of Red’s head. The barrel pushed into Red’s scalp. “I think the time is up.” Sutton said, “Make your peace.”

Red closed his eyes thinking of Lizzie. 

Sutton's finger moved to the trigger, and he slowly squeezed it. 


	8. Chapter 8

“I am not sure,” Ressler reported back to Dembe after leaving Liz’s house. “I left the bug under the table. But I am not sure she knows anything. We went through the details again, as best she could remember. She got angry when I suggested we should be focusing our resources somewhere else.”

Aram was looping into the phone call, “She did make a call after Ressler left, but I could not get in quick enough to hear the conversation.”

“It was for me.” Dembe said, “She was letting me know Ressler had come by, and wanted to check for herself there were no new leads. She offered to go talk with Jennifer again on her own.”

“Elizabeth would not do this.” Aram had been a staunch supporter on her side since Dembe suggested the bug and tracking the cell signals coming from her apartment. 

Ressler was not sure, there was something off with Liz’s anger, but he was not sure she was capable of helping Sutton.

“This would not be the first time she held someone captive.” Dembe said, “She had done the same with Tom.”

“Where would she have him?” Aram said, “The boatyard again? Her closet? She does not have access to stuff like that.”

“Just keep checking.” Dembe said, “Please.”

“I will.” Aram said, “I may not believe her capable of it, but we have nothing else to go on.”

“What about the team you’ve had on her?” Ressler asked wondering why that had not come up before.

“The few times she’s gone out, she lost them,” Dembe said. 

“Well, she is not a fan of having the security on her,” Ressler said remembering her complaining about when Reddington had done that to her in the past.

“I know,” Dembe said.

“Where does she eventually go?” Aram asked.

“Watch Agnes at school or Tom’s grave.” Dembe answered, “That is where they always find her again.”

==========

“Agnes,” Liz spoke to her daughter for the first time since leaving her in the capable hands of Scottie Hargrave. “We are going to go on a field trip.”

“Mommy.” Agnes hugged her mom, having missed her. “Where is a grandma?”

“She cannot come on this trip,” Liz said holding Agnes' hand and walking away from the school quickly. She had already checked the girl out at the main office, happy that Scottie had the foresight to put her on the list of trusted guardians. 

“Where we going?”

“To visit with some friends,” Liz said putting Agnes into the car. She did not have a car seat for the little girl, and there was a bit of a tiff because Agnes had been taught she had to ride in the toddler seat. She was not big enough yet to ride in the back seat.

“It will be fine this one time Agnes,” Liz said feeling her impatience take over.

“Why is grandma not coming?”

“She is busy.”

Liz turned on a kid's CD to keep Agnes occupied while they drove through the city. The little girl had remained relatively silent through the ride. She looked scared, and it hurt Liz because her daughter was scared of her. 

“Are you better now mommy?” Agnes asked.

“yes much better,” Liz said.

“Are we going to see Red?”

“Maybe,” Liz responded as she pulled off the highway. Parking behind the factory, she helped Agnes out of the car. 

“Agnes baby, when we get inside I need you to listen to mommy.” Liz said, “No one is going to hurt you. These men here are to protect you from a dangerous man.”

“Ok,” Agnes said now scared even more than before.

“Just be brave for mommy.” Liz would hate herself later for bringing her daughter into this. But right now it seemed like the only option she had to get at the truth she desperately needed.

============

The dry click of the gun had jolted Red. He flinched sitting on his knees. Seems the battle was not over yet. They still needed him, Lizzie and Agnes. If there was an afterlife, he had long since given up any hope of seeing his family there. He hoped his wife and daughter were somewhere better then where he would end up if there was an afterlife. Death he did not fear, and in the past, he had willed it. After Mr. Kaplan had almost killed him, Red realized he did not want to die anytime soon, but he knew it was out of his hands too. 

A noose appeared, one of the goons throwing up over an exposed rafter. 

“You didn’t think it would be that easy Raymond.” Sutton taunted, pulling Red up to his feet. Red was manhandled to the noose, and it was put around his neck, tighten to the point he felt it but it did not restrict his airway.

“This time if you do not keep on your feet, you will hang yourself,” Sutton said nodding his head so that the noose was lifted, so Red had to stand on the front of his feet to keep from choking. “I will come back tomorrow and see if you feel like talking then.”

The guards and Sutton left him in that position, one guard remaining in the doorway. The cold settled into the room. Drenched from the waterboarding, Red shivered against the cold while he struggled to maintain his position with his bad leg unable to bear much weight.

=======


	9. Chapter 9

Red was bone tired. His eyes drooping despite the pain in his head. It felt like someone was crushing his head with all of the pressure inside. He felt the need to cry, real tears, his emotions felt unstable. It was strange, the feeling that he could not control his emotions. It was new, and had he been able to think straight it would have scared him more. 

The skin on his neck was rubbed raw, and his wrist would bleed every time he shifted his weight. 

“Hey babe,” The woman was back again, talking to him. Her hand ran down his tired arms gently massaging the trembling muscles. “Still here I see.”

Red grunted at his answer. He had already stumbled a few times. The first few times he was able to get his feet back under him without aid. The rope around his neck tightened for a second and would rub at the skin of his neck, but once his feet were under him again, the pressure abated. 

However, now completely exhausted, each time he lost his footing, the guard in the doorway would have to come to his aid. Help him get his feet back under him. It always took forever for the guard to walk the short distance. Each time the rope dug deeper and deeper into Red’s neck. His skin in a few places that wept blood now, just like his wrist. 

“Just breath.” She had her hand on his chest over his heart. She had done this many times before. Always drawing his attention to her, “In and out. Just like I remember.”

But she was not breathing, Red noted. Her chest did not move up and down. She had not breathed in decades now. This was a new development, the figment always breathed when his tortured mind brought her to help him through. 

A little girl joined her side. The girl's hair just as long as her moms. “Mommy, what is wrong with daddy?”

“He’s ill baby.” 

“Is that why he stopped trying to find us?”

“No baby. He found someone to replace us.”

Red struggle, “No never.” He spoke aloud drawing the guard's attention.

“Shut up in there.”

“I told you he would mommy.”

“No.” It was a panicked no, this was new too. The figments had always been supportive. “I got distracted, but I never stopped.” Each word spoke between gasp. 

“I said shut up in there.” The guard walked the few steps across the room. 

Red had tears streaking down his face, he was begging to some unseen thing. 

When Red kept talking, the guard swung, his fist connecting with Red’s abdomen, sending Red swinging by his neck as his legs gave out.

The guard grabbed the swinging body and held it up until the prisoner got his feet under him again. “Stop talking.” 

“Morning. What seems to be the problem?” Sutton cheerful voice filled the room.

“The prisoner was talking.”

“How about you tell me who you are now?” Sutton came into Red’s vision, his face inches from Red’s.

The words seem to filter into Red’s mind slowly. Despite the cold room, Red was sweating a fever raging inside. 

Sutton was patient, he could see the struggle in Red’s eyes. He knew after having been forced awake so long, Red was struggling with concentration and disorientation. When Red blinked at him, then looked away Sutton knew the words had registered.

“Get him down,” Sutton said taking a seat in one of the two empty chairs in the room. 

As the men were pushing Red into the other empty chair, Sutton spoke again, “You know Agent Keen has a beautiful well-behaved daughter?” 

Red stirred in his chair, adrenaline entering his bloodstream at the mention of Agnes. His heart was racing in his chest suddenly. 

Sutton spoke nodding his head to one of the men in the room. This put into motion the next phase of the plan. “I would never have known, given that she is not taking care of the child.” Sutton spoke noting Red seemed to perk up a bit, “Seems Scottie Hargrave was taking care of the little girl.”

Red spoke for the first time, his voice rough from disuse and dehydration, “Was?”

“Just wait,” Sutton said watching the wheel in a cart with a laptop on it. “Last chance to tell me who you are? I did not want to go this far. Some things should be left alone.”

The screen came alive. After a few keystrokes, the man in front of the computer moved away, and Agnes frightened face came into Red’s view. She was on the computer screen, sitting in a room with two other people, as far as Red could tell.

“You son of a bitch.”

“Red?” Agnes' voice came through the laptop. Red’s heart broke at the fear in the little girl's voice. 

“She can hear us.” Sutton said moving behind Red, “But do not worry she cannot see us yet. Your appearance may scare her.” 

“Let her go.” Red voice strained at the sudden bout of talking. The world felt like it was spinning around him. He felt nauseous, and he could taste the bile threatening to rise out of his stomach.

“That all depends on you.” Sutton’s hands on his shoulders made Red’s skin crawl. He was vibrating with anger. His exhausted body somehow finding the strength for rage.

“Tell me who you are.”

His mind-clearing with the new-found rage, Red’s eyes focused on the screen where Agnes was sitting.

“Red I’m scared,” Agnes called out looking scared on the screen. 

“It will alright Agnes,” Red spoke his voice rough. All the pain and exhaustion fading to a dull background noise as the rage washed over him. Agnes should not be involved in this. “Just be brave.”

“Where is my mommy?” Agnes had tears in her eyes, but Red could not see that on the small screen. He could hear it in her voice. 

All of his resolves was quickly dissolving. He was ready to tell Sutton what he wanted to know, but he needed Agnes to be free before. Her safety was not something he would risk.

“Let her go.” He felt the own tears in his eyes, “As soon as I know she’s safe, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

“No. Tell me now, or else my men will not be so kind.” Sutton said, “Have you ever seen what baby coffins look like.” 

Red struggled in the chair, trying to break the restraints, but it was useless. Even with his newfound energy, he had almost no physical strength left. The torture and lack of sleep had long drained any strength he might have had. 

“I’m Raymond Reddington, but I am not Masha’s father..” Red spoke the words they all wanted to hear, “That is all I am telling you until you let her go.”

Sutton smiled behind Red’s back, this plan was working. It was cruel to all parties involved, Agnes and the imposter Reddington, but it worked. Agent Keen knew it would work, Sutton faith in Elizabeth restored.

Shaking his head Sutton spoke, “I want to know who you are, then and only then will I let her go.”

Apart from Red’s mind, a small part, was questioning how did Sutton get to Agnes? How did he know about Agnes, to begin with? Scottie Hargrave would die before she let someone take that girl away. Sutton did not have the resources in the states to mount an operation necessary to pry Agnes away from Scottie. Red himself had made sure that the girl was well taken care of. Why had Agnes asked about where her mommy was? 

“Agnes.” Red spoke to the little girl looking at the screen, “Have they hurt you?”

“No. Where is my mommy? Where are you Red? I’m scared. When will my mommy be back?”

Red felt the tears in his eyes. Hearing the fear in Agnes' voice, seeing it on her face, knowing he was the cause of it. The dirty little secret caused all this destruction. Memories he had blocked out came back to him, he could smell the blood again. Feel the desperation eat away at him. He would have done anything to protect them, and he had failed. He had a chance now to save Agnes. But he had no guarantees that Sutton would keep his end up. Last time Sutton had kept Lizzie, despite promising to trade.

“Let her go now.” Red said, “And when I hear from my people she is safe, I will tell you everything.”

“Sorry cannot do that.”

“Red, where is my mommy?” Agnes was crying.

“Agnes, sweetie, mommy will be back to get you soon,” Red said his heart tearing in his chest. He caused this, “Please let her go.”

“Not until you tell me who you are.”

Agnes spoke, “Mommy said these men would watch me, protect me from a bad man. One of them yelled at me. He is not nice.”

Red closed his eyes, what had Liz done. Part of him had suspected since the warehouse. Why take her out of the room to torture her? Why not make him watch? It would have been more effective. Having to see what they were doing to her. Sutton had put all of this together too fast for someone with little to no resources in the US. 

“It will be ok Agnes. Your mommy will be around soon to take you back to your grandma. The bad man is gone. You have nothing to fear.” Red felt deflated, the jolt of adrenaline disappearing. Lizzie was behind all of this. 

“Ok.” The child's voice was tentative. Red had taken care of her, and she trusted him, “When will you visit again?”

“I do not know,” Red said feeling a pain in his chest, he missed the little girl. He had grown to love her company in the 10 months he took care of her while Lizzie had been in a coma. Her innocents and curiosity had kept him busy, even in the darkest of times. 

“Turn the sound off.” Sutton snapped angrily. The plan had been working so well.

“Tell Lizzie, that from here out I will only speak to her. If she wants to know the truth she will just have to claw her way through this disguise.” 

Sutton smashed a fist into Red’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him in response. “Put him back in his cage.”

=============== 

“Agnes is gone.” Scottie's frantic voice reported to Dembe who had been in contact a few times since Liz handed over Agnes. Red never visited, but he had checked in to see if they needed anything. “Someone claiming to be Elizabeth picked her up from the school.”

“Does Elizabeth know yet?” Dembe asked already thinking who he could pull off searching for Red to search for Agnes. Red would want the little girl the top priority.

“No. She has not been answering her phone.” Scottie reported.

Dembe frowned, “Let me see if one of our people can track her down. I will call you back in a few minutes.”

“Where are you?”

“I’ll call,” Dembe said ending the call. His next call was to Aram and Cooper. When they both were on the line Dembe reported to them that Agnes was missing, taken from the School and Liz was not answering her phone.

“Do you think it was Sutton?” Cooper asked.

“Can you send someone over to talk to the school officials. I am sure they have security cameras.”

“Yes.” Aram said, “I will get on it with Ressler.”

Cooper picked the phone up, “Ressler told me about your side work. Do you think Elizabeth is behind this still?”

“I do not know.” Dembe answered honestly, “But if Sutton took them, then Raymond is still alive.”

“Or he’s dead and he thinks Elizabeth knows the truth.”

“No.” Dembe said, “He would use them against Raymond. He would know that Elizabeth did not know the truth.”

“What was in the bag that caused all of this?” Cooper asked knowing it was unlikely Dembe would give him an answer.

“That is for Red to tell if he wants.”

“Do you know?”

“Yes.” Dembe responded, “But I will not betray Red’s confidence.”

“Liz’s phone is off and the battery is out. I have no way of tracking her.” Aram’s voice came through on the line. 

“She is not at her apartment either. Her last known location was the psychiatrist's office.” Dembe responded. 

“How did they get her in there?” Cooper wondered out loud.

“Or she used the visit to the doctor's office to get away.” Ressler’s voice came over the phone, he had just been alerted to the situation. Ressler was starting to believe Dembe was correct in suspecting Liz. 


	10. Chapter 10

“My cover is likely blown now,” Liz said standing in the doorway of the room where Red was being kept. She was talking to Jennifer, “You should assume so is yours.”

“I am on my way now.” Jennifer responded, “Did it work?”

“no,” Liz said disappointed that Agnes had let it be known her mommy had been the one to bring her to the men. Agnes was downstairs playing now. Liz would find a way to get her out of the warehouse. It felt like the walls were closing in on them, Dembe and the task force would find them eventually. When they did, Liz did not want her daughter there to witness it. 

“I need you to do me a favor.” Liz said, “It is risky.”

“What?” Jennifer asked wondering what she could to be of help. She had felt like the third wheel most of this plan.

“Take Agnes to the zoo. Leave her there. I will tell her what to do from there.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah. I do not want her to be here for this.”

“Ok. I’ll see you when I get there.”

Liz left the room, she had heard Red scream a few times in the box. She doubted he could hear anything, the headphones were back on him. He had been silent in the last ten minutes. Maybe screamed himself out. 

“Hey, baby,” Liz said finding Agnes playing downstairs.

“Is Red ok?” Agnes asked having heard him calling for her mommy.

“Yes. He is just having bad dreams.”

“oh.” Agnes said, “He has those a lot.”

“How do you know?”

“When you were sleeping, he would wake up scared sometimes,” Agnes responded innocently. 

Liz swallowed her throat suddenly felt dry. “He slept in your room?”

“no. That would be silly. He’s too big for my bed.” 

“Then how do you know?”

“I’d hear him, mommy.” Agnes said, “It is ok, Uncle Dembe knows how to help him. He checked for the monsters as Red did for me.”

Liz smiled at her little girl, “Mommy has to go to work for a bit.”

“Will you be back?”

“Not for a bit.” Liz responded, “One of mommy’s friends is going to take you to the Zoo. If you get separated from her you need to walk up to one of the zookeepers and ask them to call your grandma ok. Do you know the number?”

“Yes,” Agnes replied excitedly she was going to the zoo. 

“Agnes, it is important that you do not tell them about seeing Red ok. He is in danger, and if the wrong people know where he is at they will come after him.”

“is it the same bad man that was after me?”

“yes.” Liz lied to her little girl, feeling almost nothing doing it. “But mommy will help keep him safe.”

============

The men pulled Red out of the box. Red could barely walk, his body giving out after all of the strain and stress of the past however many days. His injured knee no longer would bare even the tiniest amount of weight on it. His white undershirt was bloody, grey, and torn in spots. 

The guards dropped him into the waiting chair. 

“That’s good for now you can wait outside.” Liz ordered the guards, who hesitated, “He won’t hurt me.”

Red leaned forward in the chair hugging his midsection. His stomach burned with hunger, but most of all his muscles ached from the strain they had been under, and the punches and slaps he received from the guards while Liz questioned him. He was freezing, he knew he likely had a fever. The chills running through his body made him tremble. 

“Hello, Lizzie.” His voice cracked as he spoke. He was shivering in the chair doing his best to not look as weak as he felt.

Liz approached Red and noted how he recoiled once she got in striking distance of him. She held out a bottle of water to show him that she was not going to harm him. Seeing his hands she knew he would struggle to hold the bottle. So she took the cap off, and slowly pushed it towards his cracked bloodied lips.

“Drink.” She said tipping the bottle once it reaches his lips, slowly pouring the lukewarm water into Red’s eager mouth. 

Red slowly drank the water, his eyes glued to Lizzie expecting her to strike out at any moment. 

When he started to cough, Liz pulled the bottle back and watched him while he continued his coughing fit. Once it was over she asked, “Do you want more water?”

“Yes please,” Red said watching her closely as she brought the bottle back to his lips and poured the water in. The last time he had been given water, a guard had slammed it into his mouth and dumped the bottle, causing Red to choke on the water before he could drink much of it. This slow method he appreciated. He knew given the bouts of dizziness and lightheadedness, along with his racing heart were all symptoms of severe dehydration. 

Once the bottle was empty Liz moved away, dragging the chair she had been sitting in closer to where Reddington sat. She kept an eye on him, noting the injuries he had occurred over the past few days while they had been interrogating him. 

“Why are you doing this?” Red asked when she took a seat across from him.

“I want the truth. I want to know why you had my father's bones? Did you kill him? Why did you take his identity?” Liz felt the anger rising, “Why are you in my life? There are so many unanswered questions. I just want to know the truth. I need to know the truth. I need to know why Tom died.”

“I did not kill Tom Lizzie,” Red said his voice cracking as he spoke. He had not had much use for his vocal cords, except for the occasional scream of agony. “I did not kill him.”

“But your secret got him killed, that is just as bad.”

Red closed his eyes, he was so exhausted. He was not sure how much longer his body would hold out. How much more fight he had left in him. Part of him wanted to give Lizzie the truth, not because of the most plausible reason, but because he knew her anger might end this all for him. A quick bullet to the head, and he was done. It was fitting she was his undoing. His savior being the avenging angel he deserved. Euripides could not have written this tragic story any better. But there was a part of him, that told him to fight. That Lizzie and Agnes still needed him. He still was of use to them, and to be of use he needed to be alive. The danger was still out there. 

“I did not kill Tom.” Red said his voice gaining some strength as his internal monologue went on, “I would not do that to you or Agnes.”

There was a silence between them that Red eventually filled, “Where is Agnes?”

“Safe. She should be back with Scottie soon.”

“You never should have involved her,” Red said feeling anger flow through him. Lizzie had put her daughter in danger. She was so much like Katerina, he should be angry. Katerina had used her daughter as a pawn so many times. The apple had not fallen far from the tree.

“Oh, you care?”

“Of course.” Anger, how could she not know, “I care about her and you.”

Lizzie responded, “Are you even capable of love?” Lizzie was surprised by the flash in Red’s eyes. They seemed to come alive with that statement.

Anger seethed in Red, a righteous anger he long forgot how to feel. How often had he been righteous? After all of these years, all of the clues, the time they spent together, all he had done to ensure she lived and those she loved continued to live, none of that meant anything to her. She still thought him a monster, incapable of loving. 

“You already know the answer to some of your questions,” Red said letting the anger give him the strength he needed. He straightened up, despite the pain.

“Which ones?” Liz asked.

“You know who killed your father.” Red said, “And by now I would hope with your skills you would know more about me than your initial profile.”

“Are you saying you killed my father?”

“Are you being intentionally obtuse? Did Donald’s stupidity finally rub off on you?”

It was Lizzie's turn to be angry, but she did not lash out. She sat in her chair and watched Red. She could see the energy slowly leave him, as he struggled through the pain to sit up straight. “I killed my father.”

“Yes,” Red said his eyes closing, the memory was not a pleasant one. 

“You did not change that memory?”

“No. It was hidden. You were a child, you did not need to remember that.”

“Who are you?”

“No one,” Red said because in the grand scheme of things that exactly who he was. No one. Nothing. Not in the Sagan Pale Blue dot way, but in the man he was would not even merit a footnote in a history book. 

“Why me?”

“I already told you that.”

“What was the answer?” Liz asked searching her memory.

“Because of your father,” Red said a coughing fit overtaking him at the end of the sentence.

“Who are you?”

“No one,” Red said out of breath. The coughing had zapped precious energy.

“Why did Tom die?”

“Because he did not listen”. He had to pause every few words to catch his breath. His injured ribs required shallow breaths, “I told him not to pursue if… To let go whatever Kate sent him.”

“So it is Kaplan’s fault?”

“It is no one fault but Ian Garvey,” Red said his eyes closed, breathing was difficult. He was sure the infection was in his blood, or the water he had breathed in had settled into a nasty lung infection. Either way, it did not result in a good ending for him. He had to convince Lizzie to let this go, or he was dead. As much as he savored the nothingness it might bring, he also was not ready. Lizzie would one day regret it. She would blame herself for his death, and he did not want that on her. She did not deserve it.

“Lizzie. You need to stop this.” He asked his voice almost begging. “Before it goes too far.”

“Not my choice.” Lizzie said, “If you answer my questions this ends.”

Red started to drift off, the coughing fit taking any energy he had away. Lizzie noted it and walked over, smacking him in the stomach to bring him back. 

“Stay awake.” She ordered, “Or I’m going to have them put you in another stress position to ensure you stay awake.”

Red nodded his head. By his calculations, and they could be way off because it was difficult to differentiate between days, he had likely been awake for over 5 days. 

Without Lizzie asking him questions and knowing she would put him back in one of those dreaded positions if he fell asleep, Red did the one thing he knew how to do best and hoped it worked. “The farmer comes home one day to find everything that gives meaning to his life is gone. Crops are burned, animals slaughtered, bodies and broken pieces of his life strewn about.” He paused to catch his breath, he was panting from using up so much oxygen to speak, “Everything he loved taken from him - his child. One can only imagine the pit of despair, the hours of Job-like lamentations, the burden of existence. He makes a promise to himself in those dark hours. A life’s work erupts from his knotted mind. Years go by. His suffering…” A coughing fit overtakes him before he can finish, one he has his breath again he continues “His suffering becomes complicated. ”

Lizzie finishes for him because she remembers the words he spoke to the Stewmaker before killing him, “He realizes one day that he is no longer a farmer. It is he who causes suffering. It is he who burns, slaughters, and he knows he must pay.” 

Red looked at Lizzie, so she remembered the story, his words. But he realized after her reaction to what he had done, she had made the wrong assumption. She assumed he had been speaking of the Stewmaker, and not himself. 

“I remember. But why do you want me to remember those words? It is what you said right before you savagely killed Stanley Kornish.”

Red coughed, almost doubling over. He seemed to get paler, and struggle to bring air into his lungs. 

“Answer me damn it.” Liz’s voice rises an octave as she desperately wants an answer from him.

“Stop this now Lizzie.” Red said, “This is not how you get what you want. You blame me for Tom, fine, end it.”

Liz pulled her gun from its holster walking over to Red and placing it to his head. “Answer my question.”

Red laughed despite the pain as if he had finally gone mad, “Lizzie we both know you are not going to use it. Put it away.”

Liz's finger danced over the trigger, she wanted to pull it, to avenge Tom’s death. To fix all of the wrongs in her life, one bullet. Tom spoke to her, reminding her of all the horrible things that had befallen them since Reddington entered her life. Her finger on the trigger, slowly she squeezed it, just like they had taught her in the academy. Never pull, gently squeeze the trigger, and the gun would do the rest. 

The click from the gun seemed to echo in the room. Red panting for breath was surprised to hear the click. He never expected Lizzie to the pull the trigger of a gun placed against his head. Never. Something broke inside, at the sound of the gun clicking.

Liz was surprised to find the gun had not fired. Pulling the gun away from Red’s head, she saw his wide eyes surprise. Ejecting the mag from her gun, she found bullets inside. Why had it not fired? Honestly, she was a bit relieved it had not. Her anger took over her when she pulled the trigger. Replacing her gun in the holster she walked over to the table grabbing a pair of pliers. “I may not be able to end you, but that does not mean I won’t hurt you.”

Liz walked back over, “Someone gets in here and hold him.”

Two guards walked in, each taking an arm and holding Red to the chair.

Liz put Red’s thumb between the pliers, “Quit toying with me. Why do you want me to remember what you said to Kornish?”

“You know Lizzie, for a great profiler, you often miss a lot of details.” Red’s eyes taunted her, as if what had just transpired between them the gun not firing, despite her pulling the trigger. Lizzie applied pressure and yanked. The sickening sound of bone breaking and Red grunted in response to the pain. His eyes still taunting her. 

Liz moved onto his index finger, once again she applied pressure and twisted. This time the Red’s reaction was a silent scream. His mouth opening as if he wanted to scream, but no sound came out.

Breaking bones was not getting enough of a reaction. Liz dropped the pliers and walked over to the table for something else. Studying the instruments she settled on a knife. She went back to Red, the guards still holding him in place. He wanted her to remember Kornish, well she would. She remembered exactly how Kornish had cut into her shoulder, hitting a bit of nerve. It was painful. Slipping the knife under the collar of Red’s shirt, she cut into it, slicing down and catching him leaving a slash running from his neck and over to his collar bone. Red hissed but otherwise remained still as she ripped at his shirt, exposing his right shoulder. 

“I do remember something from my time with Kornish.” Liz dug the knife into Red’s flesh, searching for the nerves. A flash of memory ran through her mind when Garrick had Red in the back of the ambulance. Even as the medic cut into Red’s shoulder, and dug with her fingers inside his flesh, blood pouring out of him, he was still cognizant enough to point out the electric paddles. Finding her a way out of the mess. The memory only caused her to pause as she continued to aggravate the nerves. Her fingers sliding into the flesh and pushing the nerves.

Red scream echoed off the room. His arm felt like it was burning. He had not expected this brutality from Lizzie. He always thought her incapable of it, something different from her mother. She had turned on him, and he had missed it. How did he miss this? Before he was Katerina 2.0.

“Who are you? Why did you come into my life? “

Red felt nauseous and spots entered his vision. Liz continued without care, slicing further into him. Another memory flashed through her mind, Ian Garvey stabbing Tom repeatedly in the abdomen, demanding to know something. 

“Stop it.” Sutton came rushing into the room watching as Liz pushed the knife into Red’s abdomen. Twisting it, and then pulling it out. He grabbed her arm before she could stab Red a second time.

Red slumped forward in the chair, his vision darkening. The last thought he had before he slipped away was that Lizzie might have just done him a favor. 

“Why are you stopping me?” Liz said not struggling against Sutton feeling warm sticky substance on her hands, “This is all he knows. This is how we get the truth.”

“He cannot answer our questions if you kill him,” Sutton said grabbing the knife from Liz’s hand.

The yanking of the knife made Liz look down at her hands. They were covered in blood. Red’s blood. She looked over to where Red was slumped in the chair unconscious. She could not remember stabbing him or pulling the knife out. When did the blood get on her hands? Freaked out, she hid it, not wanting to let Sutton know, she played it off. Red had taught her so many times, a little bit of fake confidence goes a long way. She walked over, Sutton watching her closely, she used Red’s shirt to wipe the blood from her hands. The dirty garment ripped more as she used it to clean her hands. 

“Patch him up,” Liz said leaving the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Sutton had kept his distance from Lizzie after he stopped her from gutting Red. This was getting out of control, and he was not sure if the FBI Agents were sane. She was going to kill the prisoner before they got the truth out of him. He watched her as she walked back up the stairs, two hours passing since she had nearly gutted their prisoner. He had already made a call to his backup plan, it was simply a matter of time. Once they arrived, they could deal with the FBI Agent, and he could recoup the money he lost and regain the life he once had before Raymond Reddington had ruined it.

Once in the room, Lizzie ordered the guards, “Get him out. Secure him, wake him up, and quickly get the towel over his face. I want him disoriented when the first water starts to pour.”

“Yes, ma’am.” One of the guards said they knew their real boss was. 

Liz was the one to pour the water this time. As soon as Red’s eyes opened from the smelling salts, the towel went over his face as ordered. Liz started to pour the water immediately thereafter.

Red struggled weakly against the restraints. There was not much fight left in him.

“Who are you?” Liz asked pouring the water much longer than the suggested 50 seconds. She poured until the container was empty, about a minute. When it emptied she pulled back, the guard, as only one was needed in Red’s weakened state, kept the towel pulled tightly against Red’s face.

This went on for twenty minutes, with very few short breaks afforded Red. It was the guard who stopped Liz, warning her, “If you continue he may drown.”

Liz stopped after one more round. “Get him up. Restrain him so he is hanging by his arms.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The guards move Red who had no fight left in him. They dragged him to the center of the room and used the rope they had hung him from previously to secure his arms over his head. One guard pulled the rope, raising Red until there was no slack, and Red’s toes barely touched the ground. It was a painful position to be in, known as the crucifixion position, it caused a lot of strain on the body. Red grunted as he struggled to maintain his footing on his toes. Long since having lost his shoes. He had little hope of keeping the position for long. He felt the wound from Lizzie and the knife start to ooze blood again as he dangled from his arms, his legs giving out.

Liz frowned looking at him, “Just tell us who you are, and this will be over.”

Red saw the slight nod of Liz’s head and prepared himself for when the guard lashed out smashing a palm against Red’s chest and again against his abdomen. It was painful, but not as painful as the strain on his arms. The rope ripping the scabs from the wounds on his wrist caused by being restrained for so long. Blood dripping down his arm and joining the blood dripping to the floor from his other wound.

“Lizzie,” Red said his eyes closed as he struggled through the pain.

“Why won’t you tell me who you are?” Liz walked towards him, she noted how he startled when she touched his skin. It was warm to the touch despite the cool room. She ran her hand up to his chest, running through the fine hairs left on his chest. Reaching his shirt, she ripped it the rest of the way off.

“Jesus,” Jennifer said from the doorway which was behind Red when she saw the extent to the scars on his back.

Liz walked around to see what Jennifer was reacting too. She stopped suddenly when the first bit of the gnarled scar tissue came into view. Her hand reaching out and running against the uneven skin on Red’s back. 

“How did you get these?” And when Red did not respond she walked back around to the front of him and screamed, “Tell me to damn it.”

Red did not respond, he never wanted Lizzie to see his back. 

She grabbed his face to force his attention, “Tell me to damn it.” Spit from her angry words landed on his bruised face. 

The plea fell on deaf ears, she lashed out, this time connecting with where she had stabbed him before. An agonized scream escaped Red as the world swam around him.

When the anger dissipated, Lizzie was panting from the exertion. Red was fading, she needed to calm this down. “Bring him down.”

The guards lowered the rope until Red was kneeling on the ground. He was at an awkward angle because of his injured knee. 

“Get him in the chair,” Lizzie said walking away to take a few calming breaths and regroup and make a new plan of attack. She had new information, that had been hiding in plain sight. She was confident Red was there the night of the fire. He could have got those burns anywhere, but it was too much of a coincidence. 

Once the guards had Red secured in the chair, handcuffs holding his hands to each arm of the chair, Lizzie spoke, “Everyone please leave us alone.”

The guards left, but Jennifer hesitated.

“Just give me a few minutes. Can you go find some food for him? One of the energy bars, and maybe some water.”

“Ok,” Jennifer said not wanting to leave, but she knew Liz had experience in interrogating people.

Liz grabbed a chair for herself and pulled it so she was sitting almost knee to knee with Red. Jennifer returned with energy bars and two bottles of water. “Thank you, Jennifer.” 

“I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

“Please close the door.”

Once Jennifer was out of the room, and the door was closed. Lizzie opened the food for Red. She fed it to him since his hands were restrained. Red kept a close eye on her while she fed him the bar, offering him water after each bite. He slowly ate the first bar, even though he was not hungry, he knew he needed food. 

“Remember way back when you told me that you would always be there if I needed you?”

Red was savoring the cool water in his mouth. It soothed his sore throat.

“I need you now Red. I need to know why Tom died. I am losing my mind, and I cannot be the mother Agnes deserves without fixing this. I am afraid that I will kill you because I may not know how far you are willing to go to protect your secret, but you know how far I am willing to go to get it. And I am afraid that will mean killing you.”

“That will not get you your answer Lizzie,” Red responded studying her and seeing the truth and the fear in her words. She was so much like Katerina right now. How had he missed that about her? A small part of his mind reminded him he had been blind to all Lizzie's faults. He had put her on a pedestal, and it made it impossible to see the deep flaws. The mistake could prove to be fatal.

“I know, but I won’t be able to stop myself because short of getting my answers, the only other acceptable option is to get even. I told you before this was me howling like the wolves. I need to know, and I do blame you for Tom’s death.”

Red could see the pain in her eyes. He would do anything to take it away, but he could not do that. Despite everything, he still loved her, and he would sacrifice everything for her. How sick and twisted he was to feel that way? “You have to kill me then.”

“What do you think will become for me once I kill you Red?” Liz asked. 

“I hope you would go back to Agnes.” He responded between gasp, “And be the great mother I know you are.” Adding the last part because he had truly hoped that for her.

“Maybe if this was a movie. But it is not. I will not be able to live with myself. I will never go back to Agnes and I give it months before the madness takes over and I end it.”

Red shook his head, “You would never do that to Agnes.”

“Isn’t that how my mother died?” Liz asked.

“Yes.” Red gave her that bit of truth he had said it before in a roundabout way. At least he had thought it he truth at that time.

“The statistics are on my side. Children who're parents commit suicide when they are under 18 are three times as likely as children with living parents to later commit suicide. I have it in me Red. I thought about it when I was in the cabin.”

“No Lizzie. Think about Agnes.”

“I am thinking of her. I am giving you the choice Red.” Lizzie said, “you once told me you would always do what you must to keep me alive, well this is your chance. You almost told Sutton before we had to flee the other place. Tell me now. End this Red.”

She could see he was close, so close to talking, she could taste it. She added one last thing, and then she would have done all she could, “Just know by not telling me what I need to know, you are ensuring that you were responsible for Agnes losing both her parents.”

Those words cut deep in Red, more than Lizzie could have known. It was not the first time he had been responsible for the death of young girls parents. History was repeating itself, and this time, maybe he had a chance to stop it. Right now, the look in Lizzie's eyes, the way she acted, it all reminded him of Katrina in the last few days before she committed suicide. He believed Lizzie when she said after she finished him, she would kill herself.

=========

“I might have a location,” Aram reported to everyone by yelling it out from his desk while he frantically typed.

“Where?” Ressler asked rushing over to stand behind Aram.

“Well, I was tracking where Liz’s phone has been active the last few days, and also checked to see if Jennifer Reddington’s phone also had been active.”

“And?”

“Well it’s not guaranteed because we are not confident either is involved, but this cell tower has been used a few times,” Aram said pulling it up on the big screen for everyone.

“That is not too far from Jennifer’s distributor,” Ressler said.

“Yes, but there was more than the one time we caught her car on video there.” Aram said, “She has been quite active in that area. Both sending and receiving calls.”

“How many square miles?”

“25-mile radius.”

“That does not narrow it down much,” Cooper said joining the conversation.

“No it wouldn’t, but Jennifer Reddington had not just made a call. I was able to get it down to about a five-block radius.” Aram narrowed the picture for everyone.

Ressler was the first to catch on, “That area includes the warehouse Tom Keen was staying at after he and Liz first divorced.”

“yes, it does,” Aram said, pulling up the Arial footage. “I um borrowed a satellite with inferred.”

“Borrowed?” Cooper asked, “Did whatever agency you borrowed it from knowing you were borrowing it.”

“Um, I think it better I not answer that question.” Aram responded, “But the satellite indicates there has been a lot of activity in and out of this building. Mostly inside.” Aram pulled up more footage, “This is live right now.”

“I will let Dembe know,” Ressler said. “Great work Aram.”

“I should have thought of it sooner,” Aram said upset he had not tried it before. 

“All that matters is you did.” Cooper said, “No one else thought about it, including Red’s team.”


	12. Chapter 12

“I did not kill your father,” Red spoke his voice soft, his body shivered despite the warmth in the room. Lizzie begging for the truth, threatening to take her own life, and the truth in her eyes as she spoke of killing herself all made Reds defenses break down. He could not be responsible for her death. He failed her once already, he could not do it again. It was time to tell the truth. 

“I did,” Liz said.

Red closed his eyes and nodded his head despite the pain. He was exhausted and in so much pain, he just wanted to curl up and sleep. 

“But you were there?”

“Yes,” Red answered his heart continued to race in his chest and each shallow breath was difficult to drawl.

“Why?”

Red ignored her question, his eyes closing, he could smell the blood again. “Your father took you.” Red had to pause, “He knew the cabal was after him.” 

“Why were they after him?” Liz did not ask why again, if Red was telling her a story, it was enough.

“Your father took…”. The speed at which Red spoke drove Liz insane, but she dared not to interrupt him for fear he would stop. “the fulcrum …to keep …him safe.” 

A long pause, Liz thought maybe Red passed out, but he continued sounding a bit stronger, “He thought he could buy your mother and his safety with it.” 

“Why did he need to buy their safety?”

“Your mother.”

“A Soviet spy.”

“She also worked for the cabal.” Red coughed, Liz offered him water, which he drank. After a few sips, he continued, “Her affair with your father had become known in certain circles, and her status as a Soviet spy was known by the cabal. She liked the power. She worked for them.” He left out who they were, he had turned her, a young naval officer assigned to work closely with the CIA because of his talent with the Russian language and his understanding of the Soviet culture having this knowledge from growing up in Western Germany, where his father had been stationed after the Second World War. 

“Your mother tracked him down and wanted you back. They fought. It got physical, there was a gun, you grabbed it, shot him.”

“I remember that.” Liz said, “I just did not trust it. Then I remember there was a fire. Someone carried me out, you did.”

“Yes.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you were there to begin with or why you took his identity.”

“I didn’t take your father's identity.” Before Liz could ask the obvious follow-up question, Jennifer Reddington came rushing into the room, “There are people coming. We have to end this now.” 


	13. Chapter 13

It took a lot to convince Cooper that the FBI tactical team should let Raymond’s men storm the warehouse. Dembe played the only card he had, if the FBI took the warehouse, they would have to not only report Raymond’s presences in their reports, but also Liz’s involvement. If Red’s people stormed the warehouse, Liz’s role would not be part of any formal report.

Based on blueprints provided by Aram, and the thermal imaging, they had a general idea of where Raymond was being held inside. The team stormed the warehouse from two entrances. They were efficient. The first team would clear the first floor, and the second would clear the second floor. Dembe was on the second team because it was assumed Red was on the second floor. He leads the team through the door, and up the rear stairway. 

They had silencers on their weapons and were efficient enough that they were able to take the stairway within seconds to allow them to still have the benefit of a surprise when they reached the second floor.

Dembe rushed to the room they assumed Raymond was being held in, leaving the team to cover the over rooms. He was outside when he heard voices. Red was speaking to someone. Watching outside, his gun primed for firing, Dembe saw Jennifer and Liz standing behind Red who was tittering on a chair, a noose around his neck, and his hands restrained behind his back.

“Step away from him,” Dembe ordered his gun trained on Jennifer, his finger hovering on the trigger guard.

“Do not come any closer,” Jennifer ordered, she was fully behind Red, so Dembe did not have a shot. 

Dembe took a single step and watched in horror as Jennifer grabbed the chair Red was tittering on, yanking it out from under him. Red dropped, the noose tightening around his neck. His hands behind his back struggling to free themselves. 

Liz had a gun trained on Dembe, unsure if she would shoot if necessary. Once they took Red from this building the truth would be gone with him. He would not be so willing to talk once he recovered from this ordeal. It was better this way the beast inside told her so.

“Elizabeth,” Dembe said watching his friend struggle, Red’s face was turning redder, his lips starting to turn blue. “He will die if you do not let me get him down.”

“Do not come any closer,” Liz said her gun still trained on Dembe. Jennifer watched the imposter, as he struggled, the fight slowly leaving him with each passing second.

It was a no-win situation for Dembe. He knew his friend would not want him to harm Elizabeth, but if he did not do something soon Raymond would die.

Ressler was now behind Dembe, the first floor had been secured. He rushed to the second to see what the hold up was, as Dembe and his team had not reported they second floor secure yet.

Ressler did not contemplate his action, he simply raised his gun, unseen by the standoff participants, he fired two shots. Both of them hitting their target, breaking the rope around Red’s neck, sending him crashing to the floor. 

Liz never fired, nor had Dembe, both of them unwilling or unable to shoot at the other.

Jennifer screamed, but Dembe was quick into the room, Ressler closely behind him. Dembe took Liz’s gun, while Ressler secured Jennifer Reddington.

Once Dembe had Liz’s gun he turned his attention to Red who lay on the floor unmoving. Kneeling, Dembe made quick work of loosening the noose around Red’s neck. Dembe felt sick to his stomach as he pulled the rope, that had embedded itself in Red’s neck out. Checking his pulse Dembe felt an erratic pulse under his fingers. Leaning down Dembe heard the quiet wheezing of Red’s breathing. 

“His airway is closing,” Dembe said grabbing his knife out of its holster. 

Ressler pulled out a pen from his breast pocket, “Here.”

Dembe took the pen, opening it and pulling the ink out. He hoped it was clean. While Dembe worked Ressler went to restrain Liz. Dembe made a small incision into Red’s neck, cutting into Red’s windpipe. He pushed the pin inside the hole he created, allowing Red to breathe through the small enclosed. 

Once Ressler had Liz secured he called over his radio, “Building is secure send in the medics. We need them on the second floor.”

“Is he going to be ok?” Ressler asked looking down at a pail Red.

“He lost a lot of blood.” Dembe did not need to say it, there was a puddle of blood under Red.

“I guess it’s time I repay the favor,” Ressler said taking his coat off, and tossing it to Dembe so he could apply pressure to the obvious wound in Red’s side. It was leaking blood still.

Liz was eerily silent sitting on her knees where Ressler had left her. Ressler could not help but look at her from time to time. How could it have gotten this far? When did she go native?

“We need to do a field transfusion.” Ressler said as soon as the medics entered the room, “We have the same blood type.”

“Ok.” The medic said quickly working to connect a line between Ressler and the injured man on the floor. The medic noted the makeshift trachea tube someone had inserted into Red’s neck. He wanted to tape it down quickly, to ease the difficulty of breathing for the patient. 

The other medic worked to stabilize Reddington. Packing the wounds, the medic did his best to stem the bleeding. Once they had Ressler connected to Red, and Red’s wounds packed they loaded Red on the backboard, and Ressler and the two medics carried Red out of the warehouse to the waiting ambulance.

Dembe gently pulled Lizzie from the floor where she had remained since Ressler restrained her. Another member of his team took Jennifer Reddington and followed Dembe.

Dembe led them outside pass the carnage of the first floor. Dembe saw Sutton Ross laying in a puddle of blood, as they passed through the room towards the front of the building to the private ambulance.

“We will follow,” Dembe said unsure of what he was going to do with Elizabeth, but he knew he could not leave her behind. Red would not want her arrested.

The tactical team leader asked Dembe, “What should we do with survivors?”

“The FBI will be here soon to take any of the injured to a hospital.” Dembe was still unsure of what to do with Elizabeth and Jennifer, “Take both of them to a different safe house and make sure they are secure and do not leave.”

“Got it. Rodriguez gets your ass over here.” The tactical team leader called out over the ear pieces they all carried.

A mid-thirties Latin gentlemen appeared moments later. 

“Rodriguez you are to ensure that Elizabeth Keen does not escape and is not harmed any further.”

“Yes, sir,” Rodriguez replied looking to Dembe for further instructions.

“Take her to the penthouse,” Dembe said wanting a bit more time around Elizabeth.

“Yes, sir,” Rodriguez responded climbing in the passage side.

Dembe responded hiding the rage he felt towards Elizabeth and Jennifer. Dembe could not get the state of Raymond when he found them. Had they been anyone else, they would both be laying dead on the floor by Sutton. But it was Elizabeth, so the rules did not apply to her. It was time for Raymond to leave her to her own, Dembe would do his best to convince his friend if he survived. Jennifer was an unknown, and Dembe was not sure Reddington would want harm to come to her. So for now, she would be unharmed.

==========


	14. Chapter 14

Ressler found Dembe as soon as the doctors released him after a quick check gave the amount of blood he had donated to Red. “Where is Liz and Jennifer Reddington?”

“Safe houses.” Dembe answered, “How is Raymond?”

“In surgery.” 

Dembe said, “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Cooper probably will not like it, but as far as the FBI is concerned they have no idea about her involvement.”

Dembe nodded.

“I cannot believe she did this,” Ressler said looking at the doors Red was behind in surgery. 

Dembe did not speak trying to shake it from his mind

“What did we miss?” Ressler asked watching Dembe wondering how such a good person could be friends with Raymond Reddington. Though if Ressler would admit it to himself, he liked Red a bit.

“I do not know,” Dembe said thinking back to when she had gotten physical with Red in the study of one of the safe houses. Red allowed her to roughly push him into a bookshelf, and he did not react. Dembe had almost encouraged the actions later when he said he agreed Red sometimes was annoying. Had that given Elizabeth the idea that it was ok to do what she did. Torture, that is what she did, Dembe reminded himself. The room had been set up to torture Raymond. 

========

“Did he send you?” Liz spit out the words he, “When did you become his lapdog?”

Ressler shook his head sadly, “Reddington did not send me. He is in surgery. I came because I thought you might like a familiar face.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Ok,” Ressler said leaning against the wall. “Was it worth it?”

“Was what?”

“Torturing one of the few people who truly care about you.”

“He does not care about me, he uses me for his ends.”

“Which are what? What did he get out of trading his life for yours?”

“Just another way to make me believe he cares about me. But he doesn’t. If he cared about me, he would not have taken my father's identity all those years ago.”

“What?” Ressler was confused was Liz losing her mind.

“He is not the real Raymond Reddington.” Liz said, “The bag that got Tom killed, it was filled with the real Raymond Reddington’s remains.”

When Ressler looked at her as if she had lost her mind she added, “Sutton had the paperwork somewhere. He made copies of the DNA test Tom and Nick ran on the bones. Matches Raymond Reddington.”

“So he has been acting like he is Raymond Reddington? For how long?”

“Since my father died,” Liz said.

“And you got this from him?”

“Part of it. He admitted he was not Raymond Reddington.” Liz responded.

=========


	15. Chapter 15

Dembe sat by Raymond’s bedside waiting for his friend and brother to wake up. He had prayed for the last 24 hours. Raymond would have rolled his eyes at him, had he been conscious. The tumultuous last few years have taken a toll on everyone involved. For a criminal world-renowned, Raymond had more close calls in the last few years than maybe the entire time Dembe had been with him. Elizabeth had been behind some of them. As much as Dembe wanted to blame her for all that transpired, he could not lay the blame at her feet solely. If Raymond had told her even a portion of the truth, she would not have gone to the extreme she did. Yet, she went to the extreme, torturing Raymond. Raymond whose entire world revolved around Elizabeth. He would do anything for her, anything but give her the answers she wanted. If Tom had listened to Raymond, if Kate had never dug those bones up, and the cycle would repeat and get him nowhere. This was everyone’s fault, but Dembe could not help but hold some resent towards Elizabeth. 

There were a few close calls. Raymond was weak from the torture. The ill-effects leaving multiple systems compromised. If the lung infection from the knife wound and the water he had inhaled during the waterboarding did not kill him, then it would be the bullet wound that had started to turn sepsis. If neither of those did not kill him then it could be the brain bleed caused by the worsening of his concussion. 

The lung infection had further complicated his already scared lungs from his childhood asthmas and the poison that Mr. Kaplan had given him. His kidneys had suffered damage from severe dehydration and were bruised from the abuse. 

The only bright side was the only damage from the hanging was a swollen airway. And that was resolving itself. 

The doctors had done what they could for Raymond. It was all too much for someone in his state, but Red was a fighter. But Dembe had worried that he had fought too many battles and there was just not much fight left.

If he survived this all and made a recovery, he would still need surgery to repair the damage to his knee. The doctors suspected his patellar tendon had torn. Without an MRI they would not be completely confident. They had it on order, but the doctors wanted to wait until Raymond was more stable. For now, his leg was in a brace and propped up on a pillow.

“How is he?” Aram had been one of the few welcomes into Red’s private hospital room. 

“Asleep still,” Dembe said stretching in the chair. “How is Samar?”

“Recovering. She sends her thoughts.” Aram said looking at Red’s still form in the bed. It was a sight to behold, the concierge of crime, a man Aram had both feared and respected, taken down by the one person who he would do anything for. Maybe it was a tale as old as time, written by ever generation, great storytellers. But to see it with his own eyes, made Aram uncomfortable. He had never seen Mr. Reddington in a weaken state or as ever being weak.

“Mr. Cooper sent me.” Aram said shifting on his feet uncomfortably, “He wants to know where Elizabeth and Jennifer Reddington are.”

Dembe frowned, “Somewhere safe.”

“They did this.” Aram said, “They need to answer for what they did, but …”. Aram was not sure, would Mr. Reddington kill Elizabeth for her betrayal? 

Dembe understood what Aram was unable to say, “She is safe. She will remain safe. Hopefully, she will accept the care she needs. Raymond would want that. I do not know about Jennifer.”

“What about when he wakes?”

“Raymond could never hurt Elizabeth.” Dembe said, “She will be fine.”

“Mr. Cooper wants to charge her.”

Dembe almost laughed at the idea. What were they going to charge her with? To charge her with what she had done would amount to the FBI admitting they were working with Raymond Reddington. No one wanted that. There would be no charges. Cooper would see that eventually. It was just like when the harbormaster had been killed. The cost of the truth was too much. Therefore, it would be covered up. No one would get justice.

When Dembe did not respond Aram moved onto another topic Cooper had asked him to bring up. 

Both men did not speak again, they both just watched the slow rise and fall of Red’s chest. He was breathing for now.


	16. Chapter 16

Dembe did not want to leave Reddington’s side, but the team was struggling to keep Elizabeth contained. She seemed to know they would not harm her, and she was using that against them. The anger he felt towards her grew, as realized he would have to go deal with her himself, leaving his friend's side.

It was late at night, therefore, the streets of D.C. were almost deserted. Arriving at the safe house, Dembe walked inside schooling his facial expression so that Elizabeth would not see his anger. 

“Why are you holding me here?” She asked the second she saw Dembe.

“To keep you safe.” Dembe answered, “You have angered a few of Raymond’s allies, and Director Cooper also wants you arrested.”

Liz did not say anything in response. She was not surprised Cooper wanted her arrested. “How is he?” She asked not sure of what answer she wanted to hear more. He was dying or he was awake and fine.

“Raymond is very ill.” Dembe felt the anger rush through him, but he ignored it. “The doctors are doing their best to keep him stable.”

“Where is Jennifer?”

“She is in another safehouse.”

“What are you going to do to her?”

“That is for Raymond to decide when he wakes up.”

“You cannot just keep us locked up like this.”

“I have arranged for a psychiatrist to see you.” Dembe said, “If you refuse, you will be committed.”

“You cannot do that.”

“For now, I am acting in Raymond’s best interest, and yes I can do that.” Dembe said, “You will speak with the psychiatrist or you will be committed to an institution. You are a danger to yourself and others.”

“Who is he?” Liz was almost pleading with Dembe.

“He is Raymond Reddington,” Dembe responded. “Now will you behave, and get some rest?”

“I need to know who he is.”

A knock on the door prevented Dembe from answering her question. Dembe left her standing watching his back as he moved to answer the door.

“There is an issue with Raymond.”

Dembe closed his eyes, had his friend died while he was here dealing with Elizabeth. 

“I need to go. Can you please just behave. If you talk to the psychiatrist tomorrow and she says you are not a danger to yourself or others, I’ll let you go.”

“Fine.” 


	17. Chapter 17

Elizabeth paced inside the room she had been locked in. She was too high up to escape through the windows. She felt like a zoo creature. There was a team just outside the penthouse she was currently in. 

She had not slept at all the night before. She kept playing the scenes from the warehouse over and over in her mind. Reddington, while he had been in the box, had apologized to someone. Who did Sutton say it was? Megan, Liz remembered the name. Who was Megan? Could she know the imposters' secret?

She had been so close to getting her answer, or had she? Red had likely been stalling for time. She realized that now. He had told her only a few new details about the past. But nothing about his role in it or how or why he took Raymond Reddington’s identity.

The psychiatrist had come as well. They had talked for a while. Liz was not completely honest, but she did let her anger over Tom’s death show. She did it, in hopes that the psychiatrist would believe that was the main reason for her irrational behavior. The psychiatrist offered her sedatives and sleeping pills, but Elizabeth refused.

Before the tactical teams stormed the warehouse killing Sutton and most of his men, Red had been in bad shape. He had been pale and covered in blood. Tom. It made her remember Tom in the last moments with him. It only fueled the anger inside. She had to have the truth. The nightmares had come back, and each time she closed her eyes she saw Tom. Sometimes it was Red, but most of the time it was Tom both after the first time he had been injured by the man Red had sent, and the last time with Ian Garvey. All Red’s fault, he was the reason Tom was dead. She should have finished it before Dembe subdued her.

Liz sat on the bed, raising her knees to her chest. She rocked back and forth, trying to block out the memory of Tom. 

“Hey, Liz,” Aram said when he walked into the room taking in her current position. “Are you ok?”

When she did not respond, Aram walked over and gently touched her shoulder, “Liz.”

She startled at his touch, taking out of her memory of Tom bleeding to death while Garvey stabbed him over and over again. 

She sat up straight, putting her feet on the floor, “What?”

“You ok?” Aram asked taking a step back worried what Liz might do. Cautious around her because the woman he once knew seemed to have turned into a monster. The look on his face gave away his feelings, despite his best efforts.

“Fine. How is Samar?”

“She is awake and recovering.” Aram said, “I asked her to marry me. She said yes.” He was not sure why the last part was blurted out. It was not the time or the place for it.

“Congratulations,” Liz said not having feelings behind it, though under different circumstances she would be happy for them.

“Dembe arranged for you to recover here,” Aram said not telling her where here was. Somewhere in the city, Liz could tell from the view but that was about it.

“Where is Reddington?”

“At a private hospital.” Aram provided. He had left Red before coming to visit Liz. It had been Ressler’s idea to have a friendly face visit her. The visit with the psychiatrist had not gone over well according to Dembe. Aram wanted to ask her so many questions but was not sure how to start the conversation.

“You want to know why,” Liz said using her profiling skills to deduce exactly what Ressler wanted to know.

“I am trying to understand,” Aram said shifting his weight between feet uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Why did I torture Reddington? Help Sutton?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not Raymond Reddington. It was all a lie.”

“His prints match Reddington’s.”

“That bag.” Liz was speaking almost in a manic tone, “It the remains of Raymond Reddington. Tom and Nick somehow managed to run the DNA of the bones, and it matched Raymond Reddington’s DNA on file.”

“Why would someone fake being Raymond Reddington all these years?” Aram believed that Liz believed what she was saying, but he suspected she likely had a mental breakdown because of none of this made sense. He was trying to make her see reason, to bring her back to them. 

“I do not know. I was close to getting the answer when you all stormed in.”

When Aram said nothing in response, Liz spoke again, “Did he send you to find out?”

“No.” Aram said, “Mr. Reddington is unconscious still.”

Liz was still angry and barely could see past it, but a small nagging part of her worried about Red. Not just because if he died so would her answers, but because somewhere inside of her she cared. Had she been in her right mind, she should have diagnosed herself as crazy because that is how she was acting. She was a danger to herself and others, and yet she did not see it right now. That is what grief and anger did to her. 

“Can you tell Dembe I want to speak with him,” Liz said trying to calm her voice, she had been speaking rapidly before. It had been over 48 hours since she last slept. 

“I can let him know.” 

“Aram, I know this all seems crazy.” She spoke trying to win him over slowly, “But I needed to know the truth and this was the only way to find out. He would never have told me.”

“I cannot understand.” Aram was honest with her, “Even if he is not Mr. Reddington, he has done a lot.” Aram watched Liz, speaking his next words cautiously, “He has put himself in harm's way to save you multiple times. Three that I can remember. He has always been there for you. Even after you faked your death, he was devastated, I had to call in a favor he owed me to get him to come back to help find who killed you. Even after all of that, he did not think twice to when it came to helping you find Agnes. I just do not get how you could do what you did to him.” Aram only knew of Mr. Reddington’s injuries and a bit of what Ressler had seen, the rest he had used his imagination to figure out what had been done to Mr. Reddington over the days they had him in that warehouse.

Liz did not have a response to Aram. When she said nothing, Aram said his goodbyes and left promising to visit again soon.

Liz was left alone for the rest of the day. She watched the sun move across the sky, knowing that at any time if she wanted to, she could force her way outside. But something stopped her from doing it. Instead, she sat alone in the room.

Ressler was her next visitor, he arrived with food and water. He said nothing when he set the take out bag on the nightstand.

Liz was the first to speak, “How is Red?”

“Still unconscious. The doctors say he is critical and it is still too early to tell if he will wake up.” That information did not seem to faze Liz based on Ressler's studying her features as he told her. “I got food from your favorite Chinese takeout place.”

“Thanks.”

“Aram told me he stopped by earlier.”

“He did.” Liz said, “Did Dembe tell you if he was going to let me leave?”

“Not yet,” Ressler said.

“How is Jennifer?”

“Doing ok. I have not visited her, but she is getting the same treatment as you.”

“What are they going to do with her?”

“Dembe is waiting on Reddington to decide.”

“They should let her go, she is innocent in all of this.” Liz wondered what Harold Cooper thought of all this. He could not possibly sit by and just let Red do whatever he wanted.

Ressler did not respond, he had spent his day looking into Jennifer Reddington, and there was something not right. But he wanted to be on more solid ground before he spoke about it. 

“You know what I do not understand,” Liz said using her chopsticks to grab a piece of broccoli from the beef and broccoli container.

“What is that?” Ressler asked.

“You were going to kill him in Brussels.” Liz stated, “And yet, you judge me for what I did to get answers about my own personal life that he is hiding.”

“I was following orders.” 

“That line worked for the Nazis too.” Liz snapped, “I was doing what I needed to. He is the reason Tom is dead.” Her erratic moods enough to give anyone whiplash.

“Tom is dead because Ian Garvey stabbed him repeatedly trying to get him to give up the bag. Reddington is possibly dying because you tortured him trying to get him to tell you about the bag.” Ressler snapped, his anger seething through because this was not Liz, whoever this was, it was not Liz. 

“Get out.” Liz stood up angrily glaring at Ressler, “When did you join his side?”

“I never joined his side. I want you arrested and tried for what you did. Dembe made a deal with Cooper to keep you out of prison.” Ressler snapped.

“He is not really Raymond Reddington.”

“Why would anyone fake being Reddington?”

“I do not know yet.” Liz said, “He was ready to tell me when you came rushing into the room.”

===========

The sound of the machine breathing for Raymond was comforting. If only to remind Dembe that his friend was alive still. 

A nurse was in the process of changing an IV bag and taking Raymond’s vitals, “Have you left since my last shift?” She asked remembering the handsome man sitting next to her patient all through her last shift.

“Yes,” Dembe said shifting in his seat. “How is he?”

“His heart rate is steady, still too low. The doctors are worried about septic shock and organ failure due to the stress on his body. We have him on broad-spectrum antibiotics to help fight the infection, crystalloids which are a fancy way of saying saline, and norepinephrine. The problem is the cerebral hematoma. We are worried that by keeping his blood pressure, that we might make the bleeding on his brain worse. We are monitoring his carinal pressure closely on the machine outside.”

Dembe understood some of what the woman had said. It was more comfortable knowing what was going on. 

“He has made it this far. As much as he must have gone through to land him in here, he is still here. He must be a strong man.”

“He is.”

“Then keep your faith in him.” The nurse said resting her hand on Dembe’s shoulder to comfort him. “He is doing as well as we can expect. It is a good sign that there have not been any setbacks yet.”

Dembe nodded not sure what to say.

“Now, it is important that you maintain your strength and health so that you can be there for him when he wakes up. That means eating. I will have food brought in for you, and I expect you to eat it. You can do that and keep an eye on your friend.”

Dembe nodded, he was not hungry, but he knew he should eat. “Thank you.”

“That is what I am here for.” She said smiling at Dembe, “I will be back in an hour to check on him and you.”

Dembe grabbed Red’s hand. It was laying on the bed cold and limp. Holding it, Dembe hoped the warmth of his hand would help warm Red’s. Dembe could feel the faint pulse, or maybe he was imagining it because he saw it on the monitor as well. Dembe prayed for his friend, holding his hand, willing Allah to help give his friend the strength to survive this latest ordeal. Later Dembe would ask for help in forgiving those that had done this to Raymond, and for forgiveness for hating Elizabeth Keen. 


	18. Chapter 18

“I tried, but there is no getting through to her,” Ressler informed Cooper. Ressler had left after Liz told him everything Reddington had told her during the torture. “I think she has lost it.” 

“Why?” Cooper asked having wondered if she was suffering from a traumatic brain injury or some mental illness. The way she acted after she woke, she was never quite Liz. They all just assumed it was grief over Tom, but her recent actions indicate something more. It was why he had readily agreed with Dembe’s plan to make Liz get help. 

“She thinks Raymond Reddington is a fake. At least the one we have been working with. She is convinced the real Reddington’s bones were in that bag.” 

“Why would anyone fake being Raymond Reddington?”

“I asked her the same thing, she said she did not know. But he admitted it to her. He even told her that Raymond Reddington was not her father.”

“But the DNA, it is Reddington’s. The one I had tested.” Cooper said puzzling over it.

“As I said, I think there is something wrong with her.” Ressler said, “Maybe she was injured worse than the doctors thought.”

“Have you heard from Dembe?”

“No change,” Ressler responded knowing Cooper wanted to know what Reddington’s status was.

“No change could be a good thing.” Cooper was hopeful this would all work itself out. Reddington would survive, and then they would worry about what his revenge might be. Cooper did not think the man was capable of hurting Liz, but how well did he know Reddington? 

Ressler did not respond. Cooper had not seen the damage that had been done. He’s seen the crime scene, but not the state of Reddington. 

“Keep me posted on Reddington,” Cooper said dismissing Ressler. Aram was not back yet, but he had promised to call tonight with an update. 

==========

Ressler knew it would be a long hard night. They had recovered videotapes of what had transpired in the warehouse. Normally this is something Aram would go through, but he was out and Ressler wanted to see for himself. 

After picking up dinner, he sat at his desk, the Post Office almost empty for the night, he went to work setting up the first disc to watch. He fast-forwarded through the parts when the tortures were not in the room. Quickly a few minutes into the video he realized he probably would not eat tonight. We listened and watched as the men tortured Reddington. While this was something Ressler might have wished upon the criminal years before, now after getting to know the man behind the Concierge of Crime, he realized it made him sick to watch.

His cell phone went off shocking him out of the silence watching of the video. The loud noise seemed abrupt in a quiet place. Looking at the screen he saw it was Aram.

Ressler stopped the video from fast-forwarding and answered the phone. Reddington’s faint cries filled the room.

“Where are you?” Aram could hear the anguished sounds.

“Watching the videos in my office.”

Aram was about to make a joke about watching porn in the office but decided better of it. “I wanted to call to check-in. I already spoke with Cooper. Liz gave me nothing when I visited her.”

Ressler was only half listening to Aram when he heard the garbled screams. “Hold on a second.”

Ressler rewound the video and listened again. Aram was still talking in the background and Ressler muted his phone. He could barely make out the sounds. It sounded like, “I’m sorry” and a name.

Unmuting the phone Ressler quickly asked, “Is there any way to clean up the audio on a video file?”

“Yeah,” Aram said and launched into an explanation of how. It all was well over Ressler's head.

“If I clip this can you do it?”

“Just email it to me,” Aram said turning his phone on speakerphone. He was in Samar's private room and she was sound asleep. They had just given her a dose of pain medication, so he doubted she’d wake up. “I can only do so much on my phone.”

“Just do what you can.” Ressler said working quickly, “You should receive in a second.” 

Aram heard the sound of his secure email inbox go off. Opening the file he worked quickly with a small program he had written for this very purpose, but he had thought of it more of him being in the field than him sitting at the bedside of the woman he loved.

“Got it.” Aram said, “I can do better once I’m back in the office. Sending it back now.”

Ressler was too impatient, “What is Reddington screaming?”

“I’m sorry Megan.” Aram said, “I’m 90% confident on the name.”

“Who is Megan?” Ressler said wondering why Reddington was apologizing.

============

“I am going off shift.” The nurse from before said pulling Dembe out of his thoughts. “It is time for you to get out of this room, even for a little bit.”

“I cannot…”

“Bullshit. He has a team of nurses and doctors watching every output. You can take off for a bit. I insist. Come to dinner with me. Two meals in one day would be an improvement.”

When Dembe did not move, the nurse grabbed his arm and pulled it, “They are going to make you leave soon anyways. They need to clean his wounds and they will want as little contamination as possible. So come on.”

Dembe let the woman pull him out by his arm, following behind her, he looked back once and saw that Raymond was still breathing.

“There is a nice café down the block from here. We can go there.”

“Ok.”

“I’m Maggie, by the way. I do not think I properly introduced myself before.”

“Dembe.” He said walking beside her as they left the nondescript warehouse that was a private hospital for those with the means. 

“Dembe, interesting name. How do you know the patient?” 

“We are old friends.”

“Where did you meet?”

“He took care of me when I was younger.”

“He adopted you?”

“Sort of,” Dembe responded.

==========

“Are you here to arrest me?” Liz asked after opening the door to the penthouse finding Cooper on the other side.

“No,” Cooper said looking every bit disappointed in her as he felt. “May I come in?”

Liz stepped aside to let him in.

“I came to see how you are doing.”

“I am fine. I will be better when they let me leave.” She said glaring at the men stationed at the stairway and elevator, the only exits from the floor.

“Aram and Ressler said they stopped by to talk to you.”

“They do not believe that Red is an imposter.”

“Ressler told me about that.” Cooper took a seat on the chair, as Liz sat on the couch. “Why do you think he is an imposter?”

“The bag had a set of bones in it. Tom had a DNA test done, they were Raymond Reddington’s bones.” 

“There is no tangible way to know for sure.” Cooper said thinking aloud, “The chain of evidence. For all, you know Garvey faked that test.”

“No, I know. He admitted it to me.”

“Before or after you tortured him?” Cooper asked.

“How is he?”

“Alive,” Cooper responded not going into detail wanting to see if she asked for more information. 

“Have you seen Jennifer? I am worried they did something to her.”

“I have not seen her. But I can check on her after I leave here.”

“Please do.”

“How did this happen?” Cooper asked, “You tortured a man.” A man that was her father. He knew she was capable of darkness, he watched her shoot Tom Connelly in cold blood but torturing someone was different. Cooper knew from experience, having tortured the confession out of someone once before. He had never forgiven himself for what he had done. 

“I need to know the answer.”

“To what question?”

“Why this imposter took my father’s identity. Why did he become Raymond Reddington, when did he become Raymond Reddington?”

“Are you sure that is all you want to know?” Cooper asked having his hypothesis.

“What do you mean?”

“What about Reddington’s role in Tom’s death?”

There it was, she had purposely not mentioned that, but yes, “Yes I am angry that Tom died because of him.”

“Tom died because Ian Garvey stabbed him multiple times.”

“To find where the bones were in that damn bag.”

“That Reddington did not give to him.”

“No but Reddington could have told us what was in the bag, and we could have dealt with it differently.”

=========


	19. Chapter 19

“I have something.” Aram was excited, almost bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He had easily confirmed the name Reddington said was Megan as soon as he had walked in that morning.

“You found out who Megan is?” Ressler asked walking over to Aram’s station.

“No. But I did some more searching on Jennifer Reddington.” Aram said.

“Why are you looking into her?”

“Something Dembe said about her. He is not sure she is Jennifer Reddington.”

“Is she?”

“No. At least not biologically.”

“What do you mean?” Ressler asked confused.

“I had her blood tested against Liz’s, the blood we have on file for Mr. Reddington, and the blood sample Director Cooper for Liz’s DNA test.”

“And?”

“Mr. Reddington and the DNA Director Cooper are not from the same person. Two different males.” 

“So he is an imposter?”

“Hold on!” Aram said still excited, “I had both the man we know as Reddington and the DNA Director Cooper got tested to see if they were related to Jennnifer Reddington?”

“And?”

“They both are not the father,” Aram responded.

“So she is right, he’s an imposter.”

“Possibly.”

“Is Jennifer even related to Liz?”

“No. Even half-siblings have some similarities. They do not.”

“How?”

“Well, she is Jennifer Reddington. Based on her fingerprints. Witness protection collected them, and DNA as well. Her DNA matches that Jennifer Reddington’s DNA.”

“Ok so she is Jennifer Reddington, but the DNA we have for Reddington does not match hers?”

“Correct.”

“How does Reddington’s DNA not match the DNA Cooper used for Liz’s DNA test?”

“I do not know. Where did Director Cooper get it from?” Aram asked.

=========

Cooper’s phone range breaking into the conversation he was having with Liz. He came back first thing in the morning to try to see if he could get through to her after they both had rested. “I need to take this.”

Liz saw the number on his screen and knew it was the Post Office. She nodded, sitting quietly, she listened.

Cooper got up and went to the kitchen for more privacy.

“Cooper.”

“Sir, Aram has some news,” Ressler said his voice sounding distant, telling Cooper he was on speakerphone.

“Sir, I did a DNA test on Jennifer Reddington, Mr. Reddington, Liz, and the same DNA you used for Liz’s DNA test.”

“What, who authorized that.”

Aram wilted for a second because he had done it without permission. But it was important, he hoped his findings would outweigh any ill effects of this decision, “Jennifer Reddington is not related to Mr. Reddington or the DNA you utilized for Liz’s DNA test. Liz is not related to Jennifer Reddington either. But she is Jennifer Reddington, based on her fingerprints and the DNA witness protection took when she and Carla Reddington first entered.”

“What about Reddington’s DNA?”

“He is not Liz’s father, and his DNA does not match the sample you used.”

“How is that possible?”

“Where did you get your sample sir?” Ressler asked.

“Evidence from an old case.”

“Which one?”

“Back in the late 1980’s Raymond Reddington had been captured and tortured by a Soviet Spy. We rescued him. I used DNA from his clothes.”

“Who else was involved with the rescue?” Ressler asked forming a plan. They needed to investigate what happened. Why was the DNA different.

Cooper only remembered some of the details, but he knew where Ressler could get the information he needed, “There is a file upstairs in my office. Bottom right drawer. It will have more information. I will be back as soon as I can.” 

===========

“What happened?” Liz asked standing outside the kitchen. She could only hear Cooper’s side of the conversation.

“You might be correct about Reddington.”

“He is an imposter.”

“Aram had a DNA test done comparing Reddington, you, and Jennifer’s blood.”

“He is not my father.”

“No. And you are not related to Jennifer Reddington either.”

“What?” The imposter had told her, that Raymond Reddington wasn’t her father. How had he known?

“She is Jennifer Reddington, but she is not your sister or half-sister.”

“How?”

“We do not know. I need to go so we can figure out what is going on.”

“I can help.”

“You need to rest and get your head straight. I will let you know as soon as we know something. “

“I have the right, sir.”

“I will keep you informed Agent Keen.” He stressed her last name, “But you need time to heal. Torturing someone, it can be traumatic for both parties.”

“I am fine sir.”

“If that were true, then you are not the person I thought you were.” Those were Cooper's parting words.

Those words echoed in Liz’s mind. Had she changed? She has killed multiple people. Some in cold blood, others in self-defense. She disposed of a body, using what she had learned during the Stewmaker case to vanish the evidence of her ill doings. Torturing the imposter and enjoying it. No, she was no longer the innocent Elizabeth Keen she had been before Red entered her life. 

She was still thinking about it when the psychiatrist Dembe sent to speak with her showed up again for another session.

“How are you today Elizabeth?”

“I need to get out of here.”

“Ok.” The woman’s voice was calm and relax, “But how are you?”

“Fine. Stir crazy.”

“I can understand. You have been cooped up for a few days.” The psychiatrist smiled at Elizabeth, “Last time I was here we spoke about your adopted father, Sam.”

“Yes.” 

“From how you described him he was a good person.”

“He was, but Red killed him.”

“Yes, You said he killed him, but Sam was terminal correct?”

“Cancer had spread, he only had a few months left to live.”

“Did Red tell you why he killed Sam?”

“He said to help Sam. He wanted to end his friends suffering.”

The psychiatrist nodded, “I have a question, but I am afraid it will upset you.”

“What is it?”

“What would Sam think about what you have done? Would Sam approve?”

===========

Before returning to the Post Office, Cooper made a quick call to warn Dembe he was coming. He had questions, a lot of questions about who the man was that claimed to be Raymond Reddington. He knew he would not get them from the man himself, but Cooper wanted to question Dembe. 

Inside of Reddington’s room, Dembe was in a chair next to Reddington’s bed. He was reading aloud when Cooper walked in Dembe stopped and set the book down. 

“How is he?” Cooper asked not sure if now was a good time to question Dembe about Reddington’s identity. It seemed wrong, the Concierge of Crime looked so weak and small in the bed, a breathing tube breathing for him.

“Nothing has changed,” Dembe answered cautiously to give details out Reddington would not want others to know. He wouldn’t want them visiting him, seeing him in this state, But Cooper insisted on talking, and Dembe did not want to leave his friend's side.

“Who is he?”

“Raymond?” Dembe asked confused by the question.

“Is he Raymond Reddington?”

“yes,” Dembe answered wondering what brought this line of questioning.

“How is it that he is not the father of Jennifer Reddington? But the father of Elizabeth Keen?”

“I do not know.” Dembe said, “I know when they were married, he and Carla had issues.”

“You think she cheated on him?”

“It is possible,” Dembe said letting Cooper draw his conclusions. 

“Did he ever tell you we worked together before?”

“You were part of the team that rescued him when Seaduke had captured and tortured him?”

“yes, I was.”

“He does respect you.” Dembe said, following up with, “He spoke of a time he worked with you in Kuwait too.”

Cooper wilted a bit at the mention of Kuwait. “Who is he?”

“he is Raymond Reddington.”

“But his DNA does not match the DNA of the man we saved from Sea Duke.”

“I do not know how that is possible.”

Cooper studied, Dembe, maybe the friend/bodyguard had not known the truth either. “Keep us updated on his condition. We are all praying for him.”

Dembe smiled because Red would have rolled his eyes at that statement, “Thank you.”

Dembe’s words were not enough, but they would have to do for now. Cooper knew there was no way to sneak a DNA sample from Reddington. And there was no reason not to suspect Dembe’s explanation. It was possible. From what he knew of how the two had interacted after they had rescued Carla from Berlin, it would not be that surprising. Especially knowing that Reddington had cheated with Katerina Rostova. It all made sense, but Cooper was not so sure he bought it. But why would anyone become Raymond Reddington a wanted fugitive? 

======


	20. Chapter 20

“It is my opinion that she will no longer pose any danger to herself or others.” The psychiatrist spoke to Dembe over the phone. “She will continue to search for the truth, but I do not think she will seek to hurt Reddington or anyone else.”

“Thank you,” Dembe said knowing he would not be able to keep Liz in the penthouse much longer anyways. She was already itching to leave, and with the latest development regarding Raymond’s DNA not matching Jennifer or Liz’s, she would be out again searching for answers with or without his approval. 

“She needs help, but it will be up to her to seek it. It is the only way someone will be able to help her. She has had a lot of trauma occur over the past few years. I left her my number and told her I would see her again if and when she was ready. I will let you know if she ever calls.”

“Thank you, but I do not think that will be necessary.” It was time to move Raymond. Even if the psychiatrist was confident Elizabeth would not pose a threat to Raymond, Dembe was unwilling to take that chance. They would move him immediately to an unknown location and keep it secret from the task force. 

Dembe put into motion the move. The doctors protested against Raymond leaving, but Dembe expressed the necessity for the patient's safety. They had a safe house equipped for round the clock care that Raymond needed. A team was already making a cleanroom inside the parlor, in case Red needed additional surgeries. A private ambulance was easy to arrange. It was discrete enough no one would notice. Next, Dembe arranged for the nurse had dinner along with one of their usual nurses to be present in the house 24/7 in 12-hour shifts each to ensure Raymond’s care did not diminish. This left him to find a team of doctors. They had enough contacts this would be easy to arrange.

Once everything was in place, Dembe rested in the chair next to Raymond's bed again. Watching the rise and fall of his friend's chest. Dembe made one lass call, “Release both Elizabeth and Jennifer.”

There was no reason to hold the two women. If Raymond wanted to speak to them when he woke, it could easily be arranged. “Make sure you have a discrete tail on both women. I want to be apprised of their movements.”

Reaching over Dembe grabbed Raymond’s hand once again. It felt warmer this time. “Rest my friend. But not too long.” 

“You ready to move him?” Maggie the nurse asked walking into the room in civilian clothes.

“Yes. Everything is arranged. Is the ambulance here yet?”

“Not that I know of. Are you sure about this?” Maggie had been against moving the patient, but she knew sometimes it was necessary for the safety of the patient. Dembe made a case without explaining why he was in danger. For some reason, Maggie trusted the man she just meant. Many criminals came through these doors, and she knew in some form Dembe and his friend Raymond were criminals, but good and bad was not that black and white.

=========

“What do you mean that Liz is not my sister?” Jennifer asked upset at the news.

“We had a DNA test conducted.” Cooper explained, “We have Reddington’s DNA on file from when he had been injured in the late ’80s.”

“I remember, barely, but I remember my father coming home severely injured.”

“Yes. The government rescued him after he was captured.”

“And you have that evidence still?”

“We do. It was how we know Elizabeth Keen is Raymond Reddington’s daughter.”

“But I am not?”

“No.” Cooper said, “I am sorry to tell you. Do you know where your mother Carla is?”

“She is dead,” Jennifer said looking out the window of the room she had been kept in for the last few days. “Two men shot her a few years ago on her way to work. Her husband found me and told me.”

“I am sorry.” Cooper said, “We did not know.”

“I just…”. Jennifer could not fathom not being Raymond Reddington’s daughter. “Do you know who my father is?”

“No.” Cooper responded, “We know you are not the man we know as Raymond Reddington’s daughter either and you are not related to Elizabeth either.”

Cooper paused, giving Jennifer time to register this information. He needed her to cooperate, “Did Ian Garvey ever say anything?”

“No. He was so sure Reddington was my father. He had been protecting me from him all these years.”

Ressler watched from behind Cooper, trying to deduce if Jennifer Reddington knew this information.

“Would you happen to have anything left of the man you knew as Raymond Reddington? A watch, a shirt? Anything?” Cooper asked hoping that there might be some of that Reddington’s DNA left somewhere.

“No. My mom destroyed it all when we went into witness protection.”

Cooper frowned, it had been a long shot anyway, “Can you describe the man you knew as Raymond Reddington? Before he disappeared.”

Jennifer thought back to her childhood. The pain of abandonment always fresh despite the years that passed, “He was a very caring father.” Jennifer said, “Always tentative and supporting my mom and me.” Jennifer only remembered most of the good things. “He fought with my mom.”

“Was that always the case?” Ressler interrupted her, getting a glance from Cooper. They had agreed before coming in that Cooper would do most of the talking. But Ressler had an idea, or he thought he had an idea, and he needed more information to confirm.

“No.” Jennifer said, “More after he came back injured. They argued more than.”

“Did anything else change after he came back injured?”

“Not really. I think then my mom was fed up with being a naval officer’s wife. She wanted to move home. I remember that.”

Cooper picked up on what Ressler was asking about and stepped in, “Did you ever meet Katerina Rostova?”

“No. My father”. Pausing when she realized that was wrong, “The man I thought was my father, he never brought work home.”

“Is there anything else you can remember about him? Before or after he got injured?”

“Not a lot.” Jennifer said, “I was so young back then.”

“You said your mom and the man you thought you were your father were fighting a lot when he came back injured?”

“Yes, she was upset, wanted him to leave the job. Said he could become Admiral a different way.”

“Do you ever see her with another man?”

“Do you mean did I know if she cheated on him?”

“Yes,” Cooper said feeling foolish asking, but he had to. After what Dembe had suggested he had to, but Carla was dead, there was no way to ask her.

“I don’t know.” Jennifer said, “My father's friend was around a lot more back than, but I thought was just to check in on my father.”

“Anyone else?”

“No. But I know he cheated on her.” Jennifer said, “I do remember hearing them fight about it. It was a week before he disappeared. She was so upset and angry that he could have a child with another woman.”

Jennifer was upset, “I am sorry, but that is all I remember.”

“It’s ok.” Cooper said reaching out and touching Jennifer's hand in comfort, “You have been helpful.” 

“How is Elizabeth?” Jennifer asked wondering about the woman she had assumed was her sister.

“Fine, I just left her a little bit ago.” 

“Do you know when they are going to let me go?”

One of the armed guards spoke up, “She can leave whenever she wishes.”

“I want to leave now then.”

“Ok.” The guard said stepping aside to let her out. 

“Is that ok?” Jennifer asked half expecting to be arrested for what she had done.

“Yes,” Cooper said. “Can we take you somewhere?”

“No, I’m fine,” Jennifer said wanting to get out of there while she could. She was confused about the information they had just told her. Who was her father? Who was the man they had tortured? 

Cooper and Ressler walked outside with Jennifer. Cooper pulled out his business card, “If you remember anything else, anything no matter how unimportant it might seem, give me a call. This has a direct number to my office and my cell phone. And if you have any other issues.”

“Thank you,” Jennifer said feeling a bit safer, and at the same time wondering how the FBI was just going to let her walk away. She had helped torture a man. She hung him. No matter who or what he was, no one deserved that. Jennifer asked, “How is he?”

“Critical still,” Ressler said studying the woman, but he only saw shock at what she had just learned. 

“I am sorry. Things went too far. My emotions got the better of me.” Jennifer tried to explain her guilt away. She had never expected she was capable of what she had done.

===========

“It’s Liz,” Liz said as soon as Jennifer answered the phone.

“Did you know?”

“What?”  
“Did you know that the original Raymond Reddington was not my father.”

“No. My boss told me before he left.”

“I do not understand how this could be.”

“Maybe it was a mistake.” Liz said, “We do not know who’s blood is on that shirt. We assumed it was the original Raymond Reddington's. But maybe it was someone else?”

“But then how is it your fathers? Didn’t the imposter tell you that you killed Reddington?”

“No. He never said I killed Reddington. Just that I shot my father. We assumed it was Reddington.”

“But you remember don’t you?”

“Yes. I think he looked like the original Reddington.”

“How do you do this?”

“What?”

“Go through life thinking one thing is true, and then one day out of nowhere everything you know is wrong.”

“You will get through it.” Liz said, “We will find answers. It will get better. Just because you do not know who your father is, does not mean you do not know who you are.”

“I spent my life hiding from a ghost, a man that doesn’t exist, who I am not even related to.”

“Jennifer focus.”

“They let you go too?”

“Yes.” Liz said, “Just today. I have a tail though, you probably do too.”

“Why are they following us?” Jennifer asked worried now, “Are they just waiting for the FBI to leave us alone so they can kill us? Isn’t that what he does.”

“They would have killed us already if they were going to.”

“Or they are waiting for him.”

“I am going to find out now what is happening to him. I was able to use some of Tom’s old contacts to locate the most likely place they took him.”

“Isn’t he at a hospital?”

“People like him cannot go to normal hospitals. He’s the FBI’s most wanted. There are these private hospitals that cater to criminals and the rich. One of the best happens to be not too far from where we were holding him.”

“Where is it? I can meet you there.”

“No. I will be in contact. We need to keep a low profile for a bit. They could still arrest us for what we’ve done.” Liz did not completely understand why Cooper had not arrested them. They could try them in a closed court citing National Security as a reason for the closed proceedings. 

“Ok, I’m here. I need to go.” Liz said hanging her phone up before Jennifer could protest. She walked inside without anyone stopping her. Inside looked like the lobby of a hotel. An empty hotel, but a nice one at least.

“May I help you, ma’am?”

“I am here to check on one of your residents. A colleague.”

“Name please?”

“I am not sure what name he checked in under.”

“Name please?”

“Kenneth Rather’s?” That was one of his alias he used often.

“I am sorry Ma’am but he is no longer with us.”

“He’s gone?”

“Yes.”

“Did he die?”

“I am not at liberty to say.”

“Excuse me,” Liz said walking away from the front desk. She dialed Dembe’s number first, but it went directly to voicemail. After leaving a message, she called Cooper next.

“Cooper.”

“Is he dead?”

“No,” Cooper said noting the worry in Liz’s voice.

“Then where is he? They said he was no longer with them.”

“Who is they?”

“The front desk person at the hospital.”

Cooper did not respond.

“I’m at the private hospital three blocks from where we were holding him. They say he is gone.”

“That is news to me,” Cooper said surprised Liz was able to track down the location and for the fact that Raymond Reddington disappeared from there.

“Dembe’s phone is going to voicemail.”

“Agent Keen I have no idea where he is if he is not there.”

“They moved him,” Liz said upset because her lead was gone and she knew it was highly unlikely they would find him now. 

==========


	21. Chapter 21

“Lay him out flat.” The doctor ordered having rushed into the private bedroom when the machines started to screech warning signs that the patient's heart rate was irregular. 

Dembe watched from where Maggie had pushed him to the side as soon as the machine started to screech. Raymond’s oxygen level was 85, typically the oxygen level in an adult should be well above 90. 

Maggie explained to Dembe, as she handed the doctor the tools he needed, “He has fluid around his heart. It is causing pressure. We were hoping the blood pressure medication would prevent the fluid from building up.” She quieted while the doctor jabbed a needle into Raymond’s chest, right where his heart is. Maggie was holding an ultrasound imaging wand to help the doctor.

“I’m in.” The doctor said pulling back the plunger on the needle, drawing the flood from around Red’s heart out.

“This will help him breathe easier and should help get his oxygen rate back up.”

Slowly the oxygen level increased, but Raymond’s heart was still beating erratically. The doctor waited a few minutes to see if the patient's heart rate would return to a normal rhythm, they tried medications, but nothing was working. “We are going to have to shock him back into rhythm.”

The other nurse was already preparing to place adhesive pads on Red’s chest to allow the automated external defibrillator (AED) to work. The AED would send an electric jolt to Red’s heart, causing it to stop all electrical activity. This typically allows the heart to “restart” back in a normal rhythm. It was the medical equivalent of unplugging and then plugging a modem in to restore the internet connection.

“Clear.” The doctor called, everyone stepped back and watched as Red’s body jolted at the electric shock. Shortly after the screen read a steady heartbeat with oxygen level at 92. 

“Good job everyone.” The doctor said knowing they just managed one of the many possible complications. “We need to start a diuretic, Lasix.” The doctor said watching the patient’s heart rate, blood pressure, and oxygen level. 

Dembe just watched as the nurses fussed over Raymond. They made quick work of cleaning up the mess they created getting Red past his episode. 

Maggie was the first to speak to him again, “This was no unexpected. Given his history, we were worried that due to the hanging and the infection in his lungs fluid would build up around his lungs. It is possible for the heart as well. The chest tube is helping with the fluid around the lungs, but we cannot do the same for the heart. The doctor just ordered additional medication to help decrease the pressure caused by the fluid buildup.”

“We are going to draw blood now too.” Maggie explained, “We need to see if pneumonia is an issue, and we also need to check his cranial pressure. You cannot be present for this. The doctor is calling to make sure the proper equipment can be delivered here. We had it on order, but it takes time.”

Dembe was starting to second guess his decision to remove Raymond from the private hospital. They could have increased security.

“He is doing well Dembe. As well as we can expect.” Maggie said grabbing the man's hand, “We expect complications to occur, but his heart is still beating, his lungs are still working, and hopefully the antibiotics are working. When we cleaned his wounds, the infection seemed to be dissipating. The blood test will tell us how the sepsis is progressing too. It is a good sign that he was able to withstand this latest complication and recover so quickly.”


	22. Chapter 22

“We finally have good news,” Maggie said walking into the room she had barely been able to get Dembe out of over the last week. “The doctor is ready to start lowering Raymond’s Propofol, which means he might wake up. The latest blood test shows his white blood cell count is almost back to normal.”

“That is good news.” Dembe smiled, “He will not like waking up with the tubes though.”

“The doctor him on the breathing machine a bit longer. We are worried about his lungs. With the previous medical history and the current trauma, we want to be careful.”

“How long until he wakes up?”

“Could be the morning, could be days. We do not know.” Maggie was honest with Dembe, it was one thing he liked about her. She explained what was going on and why it was happening to him. She seemed to understand his intrinsic need to know why. “You should call Isabella and let her know the good news.”

Over the course of the last few weeks, Dembe had spoken to his daughter and even spoken of his daughter to Maggie. “I think I will wait until Raymond is awake.”

“Dembe he is doing well. The doctor even said he was stable. He is out of the woods, as long as the infection does not rare its ugly head again.”

“It is best to wait.”

“Fine, but you are going to wait somewhere other than this room. Raymond needs to be cleaned, and while I would welcome the help, you also need a shower. This room is starting to smell.”

Dembe laughed because he knew it was not true, he had showered the day before. But he knew Maggie wanted him to get out for a while. She had pushed him out a few times. “I will leave for a little while.”

“And you will sleep in your bed tonight. You can set an alarm to wake up early, but you will not be staying in this room. Once Raymond is up, we will need your help, and you will need your strength.”

Dembe smiled, “The doctor told you about the patient.”

“Yes, I suspect we have a battle on our hands to keep Raymond in the bed once he is awake.”

Dembe smiled and then said his goodbyes, promising Raymond he would be back in a few hours. Once Dembe was clear of the room, he pulled his phone out. While he had not talked to Cooper or Ressler since he had taken Raymond out of the private hospital, he did keep Samar and Aram updated. Aram agreed to not track the calls, and Dembe trusted Aram’s word.

Samar was the one to answer Aram’s home phone, “How is he?”

“Better. The doctor believes he is stable now, and they are going to try to wake him up tomorrow.”

“Good,” Samar responded. Without Dembe needing to ask she filled him in on what she knew about the task forces work, “So far they have no leads on your whereabouts, but Cooper and Ressler are trying to narrow down exactly who Red is. They believe he is likely a former Soviet Spy that took Reddington’s identity when Reddington was captured and tortured in the late 1980s.”

“Who came up with that idea?”

“Cooper.” While Samar did not know the truth, she thought it ridiculous. Even if Red was not the original Raymond Reddington, Samar’s knowledge of him made her confident that he was still American born and raised, and defiantly not a child of the Soviet Union. 

“Who have they been talking to?”

“A lot of old spies, but they have not gotten anywhere. Aram is taking Ressler out to meet a Dominic Wilkinson. The FBI thinks he is an old Russian spy who went by the code name Oleander. Elizabeth has already been there a few times.”

Dembe nodded, Dom would not give anything away, but it meant that the FBI was closer to finding the truth. 

“Anything else?”

“The Attorney General has made Red and you the task forces number one priority. Find and arrest you both. But again we are nowhere near finding you. How is the weather?”

Dembe laughed, “Very nice.” He knew Samar would never give up their location, but he also knew it would mean a lot to her to find them. If only to prove she could still work while she was recovering. 

“When he wakes up let him know Aram and I are thinking of him.”

“I will.” 

==============

Apprehension and confusion, the first feelings Red felt as his mind struggled to surface from the medically induced coma. Where was he? And surely there was someone after him still. He had to move, but his arms would not respond. One of his legs hurt, but he could not figure out which one. It did not matter, his legs were not responding either. What happened? Why could he not move? Stuck in some bed, pain in his legs, ribs, shoulder, hand, and air was being forced into his lungs in a rhythm similar to his breathing. When he tried to take a breath himself, he choked on something in his throat. Panic set in, something was very wrong. Had he been paralyzed? Was it a drug keeping him like this? Something was screeching in the background. He could not get enough oxygen in his body, it was hard to breathe. What was going on? Was this death? His death in Marrakesh had been so much more peaceful. 

Maggie and the doctors rushed in to Red’s room when the monitor started to screech.

“His pulse is up.” The doctor did not need to finish his sentence.

Maggie already had the sedative ready and in the IV port pushing the plunger down.

“He is waking up.” Maggie smiled, she Red’s eyelids flutter, she saw Dembe standing in the doorway. “I just gave him a mild sedative. Sometimes waking up can from the antehsetia can cause panic.”

Dembe walked into the room stopping next to Maggie. They both watched as Red struggled to open his eyes.

When his lids finally opened, Red closed them. The bright light overhead hurt them. 

Dembe leaned over, “Raymond.”

Red opens his eyes again, looking up he was still confused as to what happened. Why he could not move.

“It is ok my friend. You are safe.” Dembe grabbed Red’s hand.

Red felt the warm hand in his own. He grasped at it as tight as he could. It was not a strong grasp. Dembe squeezed Red’s hand gently, “We got you, my friend. Just relax and let the machine breath for you.”

Red closed his eyes, he was feeling exhausted again. He drifted back to sleep.

“He woke earlier than expected.” The doctor said checking the patient’s vitals again.

“He has a high tolerance for most medication,” Dembe said still holding his friends’ hand.

“Good to know.” The doctor said noting the patient's heart rate, oxygen, and blood pressure where all back to a stable level.

Maggie knew better than to try to get Dembe to leave again, “Do you need anything?”

“Can you grab the book off my nightstand?”

“Yeah.” Maggie grabbed Dembe's shoulder squeezing it gently to comfort him. Sometimes the patients waking up was hard on the family. She did not know the exact relationship between Dembe and the patient, but she knew they were family. 

When Maggie returned Dembe still held his friend's hand. She handed him the book. “Henderson the Rain King?” She asked wondering about the book. 

“It is an interesting story of a man that despite being successful still feels something is missing. He goes in search of what is missing, to fill the void, and ends up messing everything up.”

“Sounds sad.”

“Not really. He eventually finds what he is missing. Has a sort of spiritual rebirth.” 

“I might have to read it sometime.”

“You can have the copy if you wish when I am done. I have a few copies scattered around.”

“I would like that, thank you.”

Dembe shifted the chair so he could be more comfortable. He kept his hand in Raymond’s, while he read his book quietly waiting for his friend to wake again. 

Some point in the afternoon hours Dembe drifted asleep. His head resting on Red’s bed, his hand still in his friend's hand. It was an uncomfortable angle, but somehow Dembe slept.

Maggie came in to check on the two and noted Dembe sleeping. She quietly checked on the patient. First noting his vitals, and then moving to the bandages. He was due to have them changed soon, but she did not want to disturb Dembe. They could wait a bit longer. As she was pulling back the bandage on Red’s abdomen, gently removing it so as not to hurt the patient, she saw a pair of confused bloodshot eyes looking up at her.

Smiling at him, “I’m Maggie your nurse.” She whispered not wanting to wake Dembe. 

Red still looked at her, but he seemed less confused as he watched her.

“Your friend Dembe his right there.” She indicated with her head.

Red turned his head to see Dembe resting his head on the bed asleep.

“You cannot speak because you still have a ventilator on. Can you nod your head to answer some questions for me?”

Red was slow to respond, but his head nodded slowly.

“Good.” Maggie smiled at him, “Are you in any pain?”

Red took note of what his body was telling him, there was some pain from his abdomen where the nurse was working, his leg hurt, and his head ached too. But he did not want any medication that would put him back to sleep, so he shook his head no.

“Good.” Maggie did not completely believe the patient his heart rate was up a bit, and she knew it was likely pain, but for now, she would not push the point. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

Red shook his head no. He was not sure what happened.

“You were injured severely.” Maggie responded, "Your right leg is in a brace for now because it needs more work done once you are strong. Please try not to move it. Your other wounds are healing nicely, and you had a nasty infection that turned sepsis. We were able to treat it. Dembe has been here the entire time. He had you moved somewhere safe.”

Red nodded his understanding.

“Are you sure you are not in pain?”

Red nodded again.

Dembe heard the one-sided conversation in his sleep and jolted awake. His first move was to look around the room for danger and then to his friend who’s eyes were open again.

“Raymond.” Dembe squeezed his friend's hand. 

Red looked at Dembe wanting to talk but he could not with the tube in his throat.

Pulling his hand from Dembe, Red tried to reach for the tube, but Dembe and Maggie both moved quick pulling Red’s hand back.

“That needs to stay on a bit longer.” Maggie said, “I will have the doctor come in and maybe he can decide when it can come out.”

===========

Ressler sat at his desk reading all of the old materials they had on Raymond Reddington and all of the new materials that had gathered over the past five years of working with Reddington. Months ago, Ressler would have been overjoyed to have the task force turn its sites on Reddington. Using their combined manpower to bring the criminal to justice. But now, it just felt wrong. He had helped them capture so many bad guys over the years. And yes, sometimes it was for his gain, but he still helped them. Repeatedly, anytime a team member was in need, there was Reddington to help. 

Just as he was thinking about all Reddington had done in those five years, Ressler came across a profile of Reddington written by Elizabeth Keen. It was early in their work with Reddington. The profile theorized that Reddington had no close associates or friends because it would make him vulnerable. That he was likely a psychopath. 

Her profile was wrong, confirming Ressler’s opinion that profiling was mostly a waste of time. Profiles often provided little useful information. Reddington was not longer, as Liz had hypothesized. From Ressler’s observation, Reddington had many colleagues and friends. Most would be willing to die for him, some have. It was not just money. Money does not buy the loyalty Ressler had observed over the years of working with Reddington. It was more, Red’s people were always willing to march with him into hell. 

While Red appeared to only care about himself, there was also the undying loyalty to some that he maintained. How many times had he put himself in danger to save his colleagues? How many times had he given up his life for Liz? Yet, she had forsaken all of Red’s actions and tortured him for what? She believed him to not be Raymond Reddington. Even if he was not Raymond Reddington, it still did not cover up the fact that this man loved Elizabeth Keen to a fault. Why? That was the key, Ressler knew if he could understand the why they would figure out the who.

Ressler suspected something happened when the Russian had Raymond Reddington. Something that changed Raymond Reddington. Was it torture? Had they turned him during his time with them? Sent back a double agent, who started to work for both sides? Was that when the relationship with Katerina Rostova began? 

Jennifer not being Reddington's daughter could be explained by Carla cheating on Reddington. As a young Naval Officer, Reddington had been gone more often then he was home. It was not unheard of a wife seeking comfort in another man's arms. She would not tell her husband, or maybe she had and he did not care? 

There were too many unanswered questions and only two people who knew the answer. One disappeared in critical condition, and the other was presumed dead. 


	23. Chapter 23

Jennifer watched the mirrors nervously while Elizabeth drove them. So far she could not see anyone following them, but Jennifer honestly did not know if she could spot someone following them. It was not like she had trained for this. She was excited, they had a lead. Sitting at home with nothing to do, Jennifer started to research why they’d did know. 

The imposter had been through some sort of fire. He had the scars on his back from it. Liz also had been in a fire. She remembered it when she killed the original Reddington. Who may or may not have been her biological father. This was all turning into a bad daytime soap opera. What was next? The imposter would be the original Raymond Reddington's identical twin? 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Liz warned they were a few blocks from the location that had burned down the Christmas Eve that Jennifer’s father supposedly disappeared.

“I know it’s been decades. WE are unlikely to get much information. But maybe something.”

“When we are done, there is another lead I want to follow up with.” Liz thought of Dominick the old Soviet Spy in the woods. He knew something, he just had been unwilling to tell her. With the new knowledge she had, she wanted to take another run at him.

The two women drove in silence until they pulled up in front of the empty lot. This was the location where the beach house and burned to the ground Christmas even almost three decades ago now.

“I called the owner of the lot and told him we were interested to buy it.” Jennifer told Elizabeth, “He said he would meet us here.”

“Let me do the talking.”

“Ok.”

Getting out of the car, Liz looked around to see if anything felt familiar. If she had been here, she might remember something. But nothing felt familiar. Likely because the imposter had messed with her memory of that night. 

“Hello, you must be Jennifer.”

“Yes.” Jennifer smiled at the man who walked up to them. She shook his offered hand.

“As I said on the phone, there is nothing here. Has not been for a long time.”

“Because of a fire right?” Liz asked shaking the man's hand when he offered.

“Yes. How did you know about it?”

“Barry”. Liz used the guy's name Jennifer had provided when she explained what she had done, “I am an FBI Agent.” Liz quickly flashed him her empty wallet. She only had her ID left. Cooper having taken her badge. But most citizens did not study the badge closely and just took your word for it if you sounded authoritative enough.

“Ok. What does this have to with this lot?”

“You owned it when there was a house here?” Liz asked.

“Yeah. I rented it out. “ Barry answered.

“Do you remember who rented it the night it burned down?”

“Of course. Raymond Reddington.” Barry answered, “I was shocked to find out what became of him. I had no idea he was a criminal when he rented it. His family had visited much time before.”

“They had?”

“Yes his wife was always a bit weird, and the little girl was just darling.” Barry paused, “You remind me of the mother.”

“Me?” Jennifer asked because it was unclear who Barry was speaking of.

“No.”

“Me?” Liz asked.

“Yes, you look just like your mother.” Barry laughed, “Sorry about what I said about here before.”

“Do not worry about it. So you remember us being here?”

“Yeah.” Barry said, “I just assumed Reddington was your father. I guess he wasn’t. You wouldn’t be an FBI agent if…”

It was clear Barry was starting to question Liz’s qualification. Liz fake sneezed, remembering what Tom had taught her.

“God Bless you.” Barry said, “So you two are interested in buying this lot?”

“No. But do you happen to know what happens the night of the fire?”

“Just what the authorities told me. It was arson.” Barry said.

“Did anyone die in the fire?”

“No.” Barry said, “They did not find a body anyways.”

“Why did the rule it was arson?” Liz asked.

“Gasoline had been poured all over the first floor. “

“Was anyone here when the fire department came?”

“No. The house was empty.”

“Ok well thank you,” Liz said thinking about what Barry had told him. If she had killed her father the night of the fire, where was his body? He had been in the suitcase. How did the imposter get his bones? “Do you mind I have a few more questions,” Liz said stopping Barry as he was climbing in his car.

“Yeah. Whatever I can do to help.”

“Do you have pictures of the house?”

“I might still. They would be at home.”

“Could you send them to me?” Liz asked pulling out her business card. Her email address was there.

“If I find any.”

“Also, where is the nearest hospital?”

===========

Ressler annoyed with the lack of answers from the files he had read so many times he had them memorized grabbed his phone and dialed Liz. She had to remember some of her childhood, something anything. 

“We need to talk,” Liz said before Ressler could say the same thing himself. The phone had barely rang.

“Where?” Ressler asked wanting to ask Liz about her childhood, anything she could remember.

“Coffee shop down the block from work?”

“I can be there in ten minutes.” 

“We are going to need thirty minutes,” Liz said pushing her foot down on the gas pedal to make the care escalator. She was excited, they finally had a break in the case. With the information she had, she felt the need to bring Ressler in. Her FBI access was limited while she was suspended. She needed his help, she needed Reddington’s file.

“Who is we?”

“I have Jennifer with me.”

Ressler frowned, after talking with Jennifer he assumed she was done. That she had enough of playing secret agent and would go back to her life. He had read her wrong. “Is it wise to bring her back in?”

“She deserves to know,” Liz responded with a bit of venom. 

“We can talk more when we meet up,” Ressler said seeing Aram walking his way. Ending the call before Aram could speak, Ressler saw he had something by how excited Aram was bouncing almost as he walked over.

“What do you have?” Ressler asked noting the smile on Aram's face.

“I think I might know who Megan is?”

“Really?”

“I have been going through missing person reports and police reports around the major dates in Reddington’s file. It’s a long shot, but we had nothing else to go on.” Aram was excited, he thought they had something. “A month before the Naval Officer Raymond Reddington had been rescued after being caught by the Soviets, a woman and her daughter were reported missing.”

“That is a bit thin?” Ressler said confused that Aram thought this important.

“The address for the woman and her daughter were the same as Naval Officer Raymond Reddington. At least in the police report, they were. They did not list him as next of kin or any information on him. It was around Christmas that year. The police report says they found blood all over the house. Large amounts, enough that it was likely from more than one person and more than enough to kill more than one person. But there were nobodies.” 

“So what?” Ressler said.

“After questioning someone who the police did not name, the police believed he killed them. But they could not get to him.” Aram said, “I called the original officer, he’s still alive. He said the CIA and Naval Intelligence would not let him near the man he questioned. He said they wouldn’t even let him know the man's real name. But that’s not all. The unknown man told the police officer it was likely a Russian Agent he was tracking or possibly an organization she worked for. The police did not believe him, thought him quite mad actually.” 

The cogs were turning in Ressler's mind. “how long before Reddington got captured?”

“A few weeks.” 

“Did this unknown man ever resurface?”

“No sign of him. Or the missing woman and her daughter.”

“Still a bit thin.”

“That is because I forgot to mention the missing woman’s name and her daughter’s name. Megan and Elizabeth. They aren’t in the police report. The officer remembered them. The case always stuck with him.”

Ressler felt like they just had the missing piece of a puzzle. “You think the man was Raymond Reddington?”

“Yes. The details as to why Reddington was after Seaduke were at best hazy. Maybe he was seeking revenge for his wife and daughter.”

“We need to get more information.”

“I am already working on it. I thought we could go check where they lived. It’s a long shot, but she thinks there might be neighborhoods who might remember the family. Also, the police officer says he has the original file and some of the original evidence. He said the government protecting the man never sat well with him. He suspected they would go after the evidence so he made sure to keep important stuff. He has fingerprints of the man and DNA.”

“Can you handle both? I need to meet with someone.”

“Yeah. The officer’s home is on the way to the house where the woman and her daughter went missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far.


	24. Chapter 24

The coffee shop was almost empty when Ressler arrived. After ordering a coffee, he chooses a table in the back of the shop, allowing him a view of the entrance. Ressler contemplated what Aram had told him. There was too many coincidences for them not to be related. Running over what they knew so far trying to find the connections. An unknown man with a connection of naval intelligence family went missing a month before Reddington was captured then rescued. Ressler knew it was a big assumption that the woman and girl were the families of the man. But for that time for a grown man to live with a woman and girl, it likely meant family. Naval intelligence and the CIA protect the man. Within weeks the man completely disappears and a month later Raymond Reddington is being rescued from SeaDuke under uncertain circumstances as to why the rescue was necessary. 

Ressler reminded himself that just because the two are correlated does not mean there is a causal relationship. Aram was searching, but there was little linking the two together right now. There was a hypothesis Ressler was afraid to speak aloud because it seemed too far fetched. Something happened to the naval officer, Raymond Reddington when Seaduke captured and tortured him. Ressler was starting to think that the naval officer died at the hands of Seaduke. That the Soviets replaced the once-respected Naval Officer with a Russian spy. They knew what Reddington looked like, and after working on the Blacklist, Ressler no longer thought it impossible to create an imposter. How many Blacklisters had specialized in making people look different, act different, even down to their DNA they could make someone into someone else. It would explain the DNA. 

Ressler felt a headache coming on. All of this was complicated. It read like a Cold War spy novel. More fiction than truth, yet it was all real. Life was simpler when he knew his target way Raymond Reddington, and he just had to track him. Ressler longed for a simpler time.

Elizabeth and Jennifer walked into the coffee shop, Liz squinting from the sun searched the room for Ressler finding him in the back. The two women walked back to Ressler taking seats with their backs to the door. 

Liz noted the frown on Ressler's face as they approached. Ressler had secretly hoped that Jennifer Reddington would stay out of this mess, she seemed like a decent person for the most part. Just caught up under the wrong circumstances. He had been wrong.

“The man we know as Raymond Reddington is an imposter,” Liz said thinking Ressler would argue with her again.

“We know,” Ressler said taking all of the wind out of Liz’s sails.

“How?” Shocked by his response.

“The DNA.”

“You believe me now?”

“Yes. The team is trying to find out who he is, and when he became Raymond Reddington.”

“We know when.” Jennifer jumped into the conversation excited that the FBI agent believed them. 

Liz jumped in to tell Ressler what they had found. “We found the cite of the fire. The one I remembered.”

“Yes. Luther Braxton right?”

“Yeah while we were after him, I remembered what Reddington tried to hide.”

“Which is?”

“There was a fire. My mom and a man that I think was the original Raymond Reddington fought. I remember shooting him, but I’m not so sure I did that. I think this Reddington made me think I did, simply so I would not look into it any further. I think he killed Jennifer’s father. “

“Why?”

“My mother wanted him dead. He worked with her. I think this Reddington is a Soviet Spy.” 

“What makes you think that?” Ressler asked wanting to know what Liz’s logic was since he also had come to the conclusion but at a different point in time at which the Soviet spy came in.

“I think he worked with mine. Mom. He knows her so well. And there is Dominic Wilkinson. He knew Raymond Reddington, I could tell when I was questioning him. He just refused to tell me what he knew. I think Dominic is Oleander, and he was my mom and this Reddington’s handler.”

Ressler thought about what Liz said. He debated if he was going to tell her about what Samar and Aram were investigating. After letting what Liz said to settle in, Ressler chose to trust her, she had a right to know after all. “I think it was sooner.”

“What was?”

“I believe the Soviets killed the real Raymond Reddington when Seaduke tortured him. It explains why they would have destroyed his face and body so much. They wanted to send back someone who we could not tell for sure was not Reddington. Any bruising or deformity that a good plastic surgeon backs them could not get around would be explained away by the torture. It explains the DNA issue.”

Liz nodded, “It makes sense.”

“The problem is the man we know as Reddington has never even seemed remotely connected to the Soviet Union other than he had been a spy hunter back in Naval Intelligence days, and why would the Soviets let someone like Reddington get caught up in a treason charge simply to take out a ship. He was in the center of Naval Intelligence, likely to enter the higher echelons of the intelligence community as an Admiral, so why waste all of that?”

Liz had a hypothesis about this, “I think my mom did that to him.”

“Why?”

“She was working with the Cabal.”

“How do you know?”

“We found the location of the fire, and we went to the nearest hospital. There had been two patients brought in the night of the fire with burns. One died on the way to the hospital, and the other disappeared after initial treatment. No names were associated with them. But we found out who signed for the body. Alan Finch.”

“Alan Finch took the body out of the hospital?”

“yes. We were lucky to find the record.” Liz pulled out a folded sheet of paper from her pocket, it was a copy of the document they had found in the hospital's files after hours of searching through them. “Whoever that body is, I think that was what Reddington was hiding in that bag.”

“The bag that got Tom killed?” Ressler asked.

“yes,” Liz said.

“Did you know about any of this?” Ressler asked Jennifer.

“No. Ian truly believed that Raymond Reddington was still alive. He protected me from him all those years, why would he if he thought the man was dead.”

“What was his motive, to get the bag?”

“He wanted to rid me of Reddington once and for all.” Jennifer had liked to think that was the reason, but she also knew that Ian wanted a seat at the table. After his death, she had learned more about him than she had ever wished to know.

“Where is Reddington?” Liz asked seeing how uneasy the question made Ressler.

“We don’t know.” The unsaid words were he wouldn’t tell her if they had. “Dembe had him moved.”

“We need to ask him.”

“Like you did before?” There was venom in that.

“He is the bad guy here. Remember.” Liz said not letting her anger show through. She expected Ressler would be on her side, after all the years he had spent bitching about how bad Reddington was, and how the deal was bullshit. 

“I do not know what he is.” Ressler said honestly about how he felt for the first time regarding Raymond Reddington. “he has done terrible things, but he has also saved all of our lives. And there is no reason to question that he is unyieldingly loyalty to you, or at least he was.”

“Ressler he knows the truth, and we need to know it. He might have ruined the life of a good naval officer.”

“There is another possibility?”

“What is that?”

“There was a man in Naval Intelligence and the CIA were protecting around the time Reddington got captured by Seaduke. A few weeks before Reddington was captured by Seaduke the man reported a woman and girl missing. A house full of blood. Aram is going to see the original officer on the case and to see the house too.”

“So?”

“He either was Raymond Reddington or could have worked with Raymond Reddington

“I think we still need to find Reddington,” Liz said.

“We will try, but you are to stay away from him if we do find him.” Ressler said, “You’ve done enough damage already.”


	25. Chapter 25

As the weeks passed, and Red slowly recovered from the ordeal, his feelings festered with each passing day he became less and less pleasant to be around. Dembe understood why his brother was unpleasant. The woman he loved, had sacrificed so much for, had tortured him for the truth. Played on his emotions to get him to confess. Her actions were cold and calculated, and Dembe feared it might have finally broken his brother. Red had already scared off a nurse and the doctor refused to go into his room without Dembe present. Red’s angry outburst often filled the house, only caused by anyone daring to walk into his room. 

Dembe explained to Maggie that this was not how Raymond usually acted. He was typically a very polite and pleasant person to be around. Maggie understood, she could see the heartbreak that Red tried to hide behind his anger. However, she was also worried there was something more. Red had suffered a severe concussion, and the torture might have induced post-concussion syndrome. His irritability could be a symptom, along with the headaches he was experiencing. She was worried and wanted the doctor to get another CT scan, but they did not have the equipment. Instead, she tried on a few concussions to get Red to cooperate while she conducted a mini-mental examine to check for other symptoms. It often ended with him in a fit of rage. 

Despite her concerns, the doctor believed Red was well enough to undergo his next surgery to fix the ligament in his knee that had ruptured. With this news, Maggie walked into his dimly lit room with a smile on her face, noting his deep frown and weary eyes watching her. “Good news, the doctor cleared you for surgery. We can get that knee fixed. In a few weeks, you might even be mobile and able to move around with the aid of crutches.”

Red did not respond to her. Instead, he just studied her. It was unnerving, his cold dead eyes studying her, but Maggie never backed down. She knew who he was, and what he was capable of. Yet, she did not fear he would hurt her. Each time he yelled at her Maggie reminded herself this man had been through hell, and not just any hell, but hell at the hands of someone who he loved deeply. 

“When?” Red finally asked.

“The doctor wants to wait until tomorrow afternoon. Which means you can eat tonight. Anything you want?”

“I’m not hungry,” Red said shifting in the bed his skin felt like it was covered in dirt. Grimy and gritty he just wanted to be free of the damn bed.

“You will be later.” Maggie pushed it and she knew it, but she was not going to let this grown man act like a child. 

“I’m not hungry,” Red growled.

“Listen.” Maggie was done coddling this man, “I understand you are hurt. What this Liz did to you is unfathomable. No matter who you are, no one deserves what they did. However, that does not give you the right to be a dickhead to me or Dembe. We both have just tried to help you and take care of you. You are lucky to have a friend like Dembe, willingly taking your abuse day in and day out and coming back for more just wanting to help you.”

“What about you?” Red asked at first surprised by Maggie's outburst.

“You pay me well.” Maggie said, giving him an answer she knew he’d understand even if it was not the entire truth, “And I like to make sure my patients are well taken care of.”

“Just the money? What if I said I would give you a million dollars right now to just go away?”

“I would tell you to go fuck yourself.”

Red snorted in laughter at that, there was a hint of a smile on his face. 

Dembe walked into the room when he heard Maggies raised voice, he studied the two. 

“Is everything ok?” Dembe asked standing in the doorway watching the two staring at each other.

“Everything is fine. I was just telling Raymond the good news about tomorrow.”

“I sent someone to pick up your favorites from some of the near restaurants.” Dembe said, “Since you can eat whatever you want tonight.”

Maggie gave Red a look that dared him to try to get grumpy with Dembe. 

“Thank you Dembe.” Red meant the thank you. He knew he was being insufferable, but he hated being this weak and not in control. The nightmares he was having were not helping either. Lizzie’s actions had brought up old memories, of another loved one that had hurt him. In his nightmares, he was just a child being punished at the hands of his cruel dictator of a father. Breaking the rules, even the most innocent of the rules, had to be punished harshly. 

Maggie spoke again, “Good.” Maggie had seen how Red had scratched at his skin. He had allowed Dembe to give him a sponge bath a few times, but there was nothing like a good bath to make someone feel clean. “How about I rig something up so that you can take a bath and we can keep those staples and cast from getting too wet?”

“I would like that,” Red answered honestly, he would kill for a bath right now.

“Then I will figure something out. You are going to have to let Dembe and I help you.”

Red accented to having his brother help him, even though he’d rather bath alone. 

“Then it is settled. Do you want to bath before or after you eat?”

“Before.” 

“Dembe, can you help him into the wheelchair and help him undress. I will get the supplies I need.”

Dembe was gentle as he helped his brother out of the bed and into the wheelchair. It was amazing how much weight Red had lost over the last few weeks. It was just not weight but muscle definition he had lost. Dembe made a note that he would need to find a way to help Red gain back some of the muscle once he was able to have a bit more mobility. 

Red grimacing in pain, he went to speak, catching his brother's eyes once he was in the chair.

Dembe did not force him to say the words, he smiled reassuringly at his brother and spoke, “I understand Raymond. Let’s get you into the bathroom.”

Red grabbed Dembe’s hand, “Thank you. You are a better friend than I deserve.”

Dembe smiled knowing anything he said would go in one ear and out the other. Raymond would never believe he was deserving of love and friendship. 

“Where did you find the nurse?”

“Maggie?”

“Yes.”

“She was working at the hospital.” 

“I have a feeling I am going to regret all of the things I have said to her when the PT stars.”

Dembe laughed.

“There is going to be two of you pushing me now to walk in endless circles.”

“Hopefully we will be more successful this time.”

Dembe turned the water on in the tub and let it fill as he helped Red undress. He was careful of his friends IV port, and injuries. The wounds were red and angry looking, but at least there were no signs of infection anymore. Earlier in the week, they had to lance one of his wounds because the infection had settled in. After draining it and another round of antibiotics, the infection disappeared. 

Maggie came into the bathroom and quickly used garbage bags over Red’s injured knee. Using tape and other supplies she was able to make it so that water could not leak into the brace around his knee. “I spoke with the doctor briefly, and he thinks your abdomen will have healed enough that it won’t matter if the water touches it. He is going to take the staples out tomorrow when you are under for the surgery.”

Red nodded concentrating on his breathing. The sound of the water feeling the tub filled him with anxiety. Memories of struggling while he was strapped down to a bench, water pouring over his towel-covered face, making him feel as if he was drowning, rushing back into his mind.

Maggie was the first to note Red was tense and starting to hyperventilate.

“Dembe can you go get the bag I left in the other room. I need something out of it.” Maggie asked in a calm voice, not wanting to startle her patient anymore. She kneeled by Red’s side, careful not to hit his bad leg.

“Hey, Raymond. Look at me.” Maggie said gently touching his arm in comfort. She did her best to gain Red’s attention while Dembe was fetching the medical supplies. She chastised herself for not having brought them. She knew this was a possibility based on the injuries he had sustained, it was clear water was used in some form of torture.

Dembe knew what Maggie wanted, having seen Red’s faraway glance. He rushed to go get the sedative that Maggie kept in her medical bag, ready for whenever it was needed. They had expected something like this to happen sooner. Red was strong, but he was not superhuman. What he had gone through was enough to cause anyone to have an anxiety attack. The problem was his heartrate and his respiration rate they needed both to remain stable after the damage done due to the infection he suffered from the wounds he sustained at the hands of Liz. 

Back in the room with the syringe, Dembe handed it to Maggie.

Maggie was talking gently to Red, “Raymond, look at me. Focus on me.” She spoke softly, “I am going to give you a sedative. Just a mild one to help you relax.” She was gentle with him, she quickly found a vein and inserted the needle, pushing the plunger down. Her hands gently rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him. “You are safe here.”

Slowly the drug took over relaxing Red’s tense muscles, as his body relaxed he did too. His breathing became steady and his eyes calmer. 

“You still want that bath?” Maggie asked holding his uninjured hand.

Red nodded, he desperately wanted that bath. He felt dirty and he could not stand the smell of his own body. He smelt like a hospital. 

“Ok. If you are sure, Dembe will help you in the water. Raymond, you have to remain calm, we cannot jostle your leg too much. The swelling is down, and it needs to stay down so the doctor can reattach the tendon.”

Red nodded, he would be fine, he just had to remember he was ok. Dembe would not push him under the water. Maggie might want to, but she never would. 

Dembe was gentle with Raymond again noting just how light his friend felt as he picked him up and put him into the warm water. 

“I have an idea.” Maggie rushed out of the room. She had the security detail pick up bubble bath when they first arrived. Her bathroom had a huge tube, much like the one Raymon was soaking in now. She could not pass up the chance to take a bubble bath. After a long day of her patient yelling and being unpleasant, nothing felt better than a long soak in the tub. 

She returned with the bubble bath, “This might help.” She showed Red the bottle, “I got it for my own use, but I can share some with you. It will help with the antiseptic smell.”

“Thank you.” Red smiled at her hating that he felt so weak. 

Maggie dumped some of the bottles into the water and grabbed a wash rag for Red. “I assume you can handle cleaning yourself.”

“Yes.”

“Dembe, why don’t we go wait in the bedroom. If Raymond needs any help he will call out for us. Right?”

“Yes.” Red was grateful that she understood he needed some time alone.

Dembe waited until he was out of the bathroom to raise his concerns. If he had in front of Red it would have made his brother feel worse. He knew Red hated having to rely on someone else to help him like this. 

“He will be fine.” Maggie assured Dembe, “The sedative will keep him from having another panic attack and we can hear if anything else happens. So relax. Give him some space.”

==========

Despite their combined efforts, the task force was no closer to finding where Reddington was. The fingerprints the officer had degraded to the point that they were unusable. The DNA was almost there. They had sent it off to a special lab to be run against the DNA the FBI had collected of Reddington’s when he was arrested and also the DNA Cooper had obtained from when Reddington had been rescued from Sea Duke. Once they were able to get a better DNA profile off the old DNA, they would also run it against Jennifer’s and Liz’s DNA to see if it matched either woman. 

Despite the evidence, Liz was confident they were on the right track. The more they looked into the missing woman and her daughter, the more it seemed like they were onto something. It was hard to overlook the fact the woman was named Megan and the daughter Elizabeth. 

She had read the murder book for the hundredth time. The mother and daughter's bodies were never found. The only evidence that something happened in the family home was the blood. They caught a lucky break. All of the evidence of the case had gone missing except for what the original officer had taken. While it was not uncommon for bits of evidence to be misplaced, especially in old case files, it was unusual for all of the evidence to disappear.

It was the best they had. None of the neighbors remember the family, none of them having lived in the neighborhood at the same time. They all told the same story about the day the house blew up. They were evacuated by a group of firemen telling them there was a gas leak at the house. No one remembered what the firemen looked like, and none of Red’s usual associates could be identified from photos when Liz and Ressler went back through on the second round of questioning. None of this help her figure out who Red was.

What made Liz so sure that Red was somehow related to all of this, was the wives' name. Megan. Red had called to a Megan. More disturbing was the daughter's name, Elizabeth Scott. No one had spoken of this, but they all thought the same thing. Liz got her identity from a dead little girl. She would have been around the same age as the missing girl. The reason why was still unknown too.

“We still have nothing,” Ressler said frustrated. He tried to call Dembe a few times, but eventually, the number Ressler had just gone to a message telling him that callers voicemail box was full. “We have been at this for weeks, and we are nowhere.”

“I have an idea,” Liz said feeling uncomfortable at work because everyone looked at her differently. Torturing a man near to death could do that, she guessed, but they did not understand she needed to know. She had begged, gobbled up the bits and pieces he had fed her over the years, and the ultimate catalyst was his secret getting Tom killed, and causing Liz to lose her daughter in the process. It was all the imposter's fault, and while she had started to torture him to get the truth, she knew, in the end, she just wanted to get even.

“Since we cannot find who treated the burns on his back. And we know he was in the fire, and we cannot find anything linking him to the missing woman and daughter. There is one lead left we have not tried.”

“Who?” Ressler asked.

“Dominick Wilkinson. Oleander. He knew Reddington. He could have been this Reddington’s handler. We should question him, officially.”

“Even if he is the Soviet spy Oleander, what makes you think he is going to tell us anything?”

“All we can do is try. Let’s confront him with what we know, and see what he says. It cannot hurt. We are in a dead-end, and we have no idea where Dembe took Red.”

“Fine.” Ressler stood up, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “I’m driving.”

========

Dembe was watching Red rest when he felt the burner phone vibrate in his pocket. Grabbing the phone Dembe frowned, the number was Dominick’s. Why would he be calling now? He never called them. Dembe got up, taking one more look at his friend who little adventure to the bathroom had exhausted him, Dembe left the room to take the call.

“Masha is here,” Dominick said before Dembe could even say hello. “You said she would not be back.”

“Raymond cannot talk right now Dominick.”

“Why not?” Dominick demanded.

“He was injured.” Dembe wondered if he should tell Dom it was at the hands of Masha but decided Red would want his privacy maintained.

“She is here with some man. They just pulled into my driveway.”

Dembe chooses his words carefully. He did not know Dom as well as Red knew him, and Dembe was not used to dealing with the old man. “Their visit may have nothing to do with Raymond.”

“Do you know how it feels to talk to my granddaughter and not telling her who I am. To be so close, yet so far. To lie to her?”

“I am sorry.” Dembe meant it, “But you know why.”

“I do, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it. Is she really in that much danger if I told her the truth?”

“Yes.” Dembe said, “I think more now than ever.”

“Fine. I have to go.” Dom hung the phone up and threw it into the kitchen drawer. He waited anxiously for the knock on the door. 

When it came, he reminded himself of his skills, he was a good man Russian Spy one of the best, so he could do this. Opening the door, he looked confused, “What?”

“Mr. Wilkinson, Do you remember me? I am…”

“FBI Agent Elizabeth Keen. You came to talk to me earlier this year.”

“Yes, this is my partner Donald Ressler.”

“What do you want?” 

“May we come in and talk with you.”

“How many times are you people going to investigate me. I told you I am not this Oleander you all think I was.”

“We are not here about that Sir,” Liz said noting that he looked nervous, but he was hiding it well. It was in the way he studied her and his eyes quickly twitched to Ressler when she caught him.

“come in. I am out of coffee, but I can get you water.”

“We are fine sir,” Ressler said letting Liz through the door first. She would do the talking simply because she had previously spoken with Dominick, and had the chance to build rapport with him previously.

“What are you here about?” Dom asked taking a seat in an old chair, leaving Liz and Ressler to sit on the couch.

“Raymond Reddington.” Liz knew Dom would prefer her to be direct and not beat around the bush, “Or at least the man the world thinks is Raymond Reddington.”

“I told you, I did not know him last time.” 

“I don’t believe you.” Liz said, “Rumor is if you knew Katerina you would know Reddington. That they were an item.”

Dom laughed, “Old urban legend.”

“Humor us please.” Liz said, “You were in the Soviet Union when the Naval Officer Raymond Reddington had been captured by Seaduke correct?”

“I remember hearing about it yes.”

“What happened to Seaduke?”

“He died.” 

“How?”

“American agent killed him.” Dom responded, “In retaliation for what he had done to your agent.”

Liz smiled, “You know that, but you don’t know Raymond Reddington?”

“No.” Dom responded annoyed, “I must get to town before the stores close.”

==========


	26. Chapter 26

Standing outside of Scottie Hargraves's house, Liz knew she would have a lot of explaining to do. Scottie was furious, by the voicemails she left on Liz’s phone after Liz had taken Agnes and used her as a pawn to try to get Red to break. It was not Liz’s proudest moment. She regretted it and would apologize for both to Agnes and Scottie before she asked for the help she needed.

The maid answered the door and knew right away who Liz’s was, “I will let Mrs. Hargrave know you are here Mrs. Keen.”

“Thank you,” Liz said waiting in the foyer of the big house. She could hear Agnes giggles from somewhere deep inside. 

It only took a few minutes for Scottie to appear from the top of the stairs. 

“Before you start Scottie, I am sorry. I was so wrong to do that.”

Scottie had been prepared to be angry to kick Liz out of her house, but she saw the emotional pain on Liz’s face and knew she couldn’t do that.

“Just let me explain please.”

“Fine. Come to my office.” Scottie said not wanting to disturb the little girl that played inside with her nanny.

Liz followed Scottie to the upstairs office. 

Once inside Liz started, “I need to find out why Tom died.”

“And you used Agnes because?”

“I tried to get Red to talk using myself first. He has two weaknesses. Agnes and Me. I did not want to bring her into this if I did not have to. But he did not break when it was me. I tried everything else. Agnes was my desperate attempt. I know it was wrong. I swear I wish I could take it back.”

“She thought it was all a game.” Scottie left Liz off easy because she knew the woman was hurting. “Thankfully.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Did you at least get your answer?”

“No.”

“That is why you are here now. You think I know what Reddington had in that bag?”

“NO. I know what was in the bag now.” Liz said, “I got that. But I do not know who he is.”

“He’s Raymond Reddington,” Scottie answered thinking Liz’s statement was ridiculous.

“No, he’s not. He admitted as much.” Liz filled Scottie in with the details. At least everything she knew forgetting that at one-point Scottie and Reddington were enemies.

“This all sounds far-fetched.”

“I know.” 

“But it was the Cold War, and both sides went to the extremes.” 

“I need your help. Where would Dembe take Reddington if he needed medical treatment?” Liz asked needing to know because Reddington had the answers. Dom would not give her what she needed without Reddington.

“Doesn’t he have teams for that.”

“Yes, but he would have needed extended care. Not just a quick surgery.” 

“You hurt him that much?”

“Yes.” Again she was not very proud of what she had done, but unlike with Agnes, she did not regret it.

“There are some private hospitals.” 

“He would not stay at any of those for long. He’s likely already left one.”

“But we can at least find out where he started, and move from there.” Scottie said, “There is always a trial, Red is good at hiding his, but it’s there.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing. I will call you when I have something.”

“Thank you Scottie.”

=============  
  


“You can stop pacing now.” Maggie smiled walking up to Dembe.

“He is ok?”

“Surgery went well. The doctor will be out in a moment to give you all the details.”

Dembe smiled, happy his friend would be ok. “Does the doctor think he’ll make a full recovery?”

“Yes. With a lot of PT, he will make a full recovery. He will likely have pain sometimes, but he should be able to walk.”

“He will be relieved.”

“Why don’t you go wait in his room. The doctor needed to close and I will let him know that is where you are at. I will sit with him while we wait for him to come to a bit more.” 

Twenty minutes later Maggie and the additional help they hired only for the surgery were wheeling Reddington in on a bed. They would transfer him to the more comfortable one while was still unconscious.

“How are his lungs?” They had worried about how the anesthesia might affect him.

“Good. We did not have to wait long to take the tube out this time.”

Dembe helped with transferring Red, Maggie made sure they did not jostle his leg too much. She squared Red away in the bed, just as she finished the doctor walked into the room and gave Dembe more details about Red’s treatment and what they would expect over the next couple of days. It would be a full week before Red would even be allowed to put the tiniest bit of weight on his leg. The doctor wanted to give the tendons time to properly fuse before they stressed them too much. 

“How long before he’s awake again?”

“Probably another hour or so,” Maggie responded. 

“Thank you for all of your help,” Dembe said knowing he should have said it sooner. This woman has helped make things much easier given everything they were going through.

=========


	27. Chapter 27

“Easy Raymond.” Dembe warned standing near his friend hovering nearby ready to help, “The doctor said you cannot bear any weight on that leg yet. Toe touches.”

Red concentrated on moving from the hospital bed to the chair. It was a small task, but a large triumph if accomplished. He had been stuck in the bed for too long. Dembe had tried to ease Red’s cabin fever by keeping him entertained, but it was getting more difficult now that Red was starting to feel better physically. 

Red had requested a chance to go outside to get fresh air, but the doctors vetoed the idea because his lungs were still recovering from the infection and wounds. Red negotiated with Maggie and they settled for him moving to a chair. If he was good after that then they would discuss a wheelchair to move about the house with the help of Dembe or someone else.

His knee surgery had only been a few days ago when his body was finally strong enough to repair the patellar tendon tear. The leg brace had just been put on that day after the doctor had removed the full leg cast. It made Red want to move more. Now he could.

Reaching the chair took a lot of energy and effort. By the time he got from the bed to the chair that was right next to the bed, he was out of breath and sweating. Dembe helped him lower into the chair. Red coughed, his lungs still healing from the infection, and he had strained them struggling for this small triumph.

Smiling up at Dembe he leaned back, allowing Dembe to help him elevate his leg using the recline function of the chair and a fluffy pillow. 

“How much longer do I have to be in here?”

“A week or so more.” Dembe said, “They want to keep monitoring you and make sure your wounds heal.” The ones on his chest had healed fine, the bullet wound no longer had any signs of infection. It all seemed to be that Red would recover once again after being near the brink of death. 

“How is Lizzie?”

Red had asked every day, even after he remembered what she had done to him. Dembe always responded with a shrug. 

“She is safe.” Dembe said, “She saw a psychiatrist and we have not heard from her since.”

“Agnes?”

“Safe with Scottie Hargrave, and we have an additional team with them.”

Red nodded his head, he was tired. Dembe could see his friend was exhausted from their little adventure to the chair. 

“Rest,” Dembe said grabbing a blanket to drape over Red. “I will bring you something to eat tonight.”

“You are too good to me Dembe.” Red had struggled with the food. It was a private hospital so the food was better than most hospital food, but it still was not the best. 

“Tomorrow you start your PT.”

“Don’t ruin the mood.” Red joked with his friend missing this time with Dembe. 

Red did drift to sleep, dreaming of blonde beautiful hair. The little curls swinging in the air as the little girl chased after lightning bugs at dusk. His dreams always felt so real, holding her in his arms again. Even down to the scent. His wife watching on while he tickled the little girl who squealed in joy. 

Red was ripped from the dream when someone was touching his arm. 

“Sorry,” Maggie spoke having come to check his vitals after just starting her shift. 

“It is ok.” Red smiled at the nurse, she was doing her job. She might have saved him from waking up screaming.

“How is the pain level?” She asked counting the beats of his heart holding her fingers against the vein in his wrist. His wrist had scabbed over and was healing slowly, they would probably scar. Most people would have cowered at touching them, but she had seen worse when she worked in the Army.

“Fine.”

“You know the drill.”

“Seven.”

“Seven is fine?” She asked raising her eyebrows.

“For me yes.”

“Well, you let me know if you want something to help. You just had surgery that knee is going to hurt.”

“Thank you. But it is not necessary.” Red said for her kindness. Sometimes it was easier to accept kindness from strangers. They could not possibly know what a monster he was. How he had pushed someone so beautiful and kind as Lizzie to a breaking point. 

“You start physical therapy tomorrow. Don’t be a tough guy, if you need pain medication let us know. Suffering in pain will only delay your recovery.”

Red smiled at her, a genuine smile, “I can guarantee you, I will ask for the medication as soon as I need it.”

“I also read on your chart that you are having trouble sleeping at night.” The nurse did not mention that the other nurses had made notes about him waking up cover in sweat after nightmares. “We have medication to help you sleep.”

“A pill for everything.” Red said, “Normally, I would not hesitate to partake in better living via chemistry.”

“So what is different now?”

Red did not have an answer for her. For one she would want to hear his reasoning. He was a bad man, he deserved this. He had pushed Lizzie to her breaking point, he had made her do this, and he should feel every bit of the pain he caused her. He turned her into him, the one thing he had tried so hard to not do. Hubris was an evil bitch.

============

Liz knew she had to approach this situation carefully. With the help of Scottie and her team, she was able to get schematics of the farmhouse, shift changes for the doctors and nurses, and even track the movement of the few guards Dembe had watching. It was amazing the technology Scottie had available to her. 

Ressler and Cooper both had called multiple times over the last few days. Wondering where she was. Liz answered Cooper's most recent call and told him she was following a lead on what happened to the real Reddington. It seemed to make Cooper happy enough, at least he let her go back to work. 

Now dressed in black, she down the road from the farmhouse. She ultimately decided to take Scottie up on her offer for a team to help her extract Reddington from the farmhouse. The strike team was all armed with non-lethal weapons. They did not want to kill anyone. The team had their van, and Liz an SUV. Once they had Reddington out of the house and into the SUV, the team would part ways. Liz did not want them following her where she was planning on taking the imposter Reddington. 

“You all ready?” Liz asked over her radio. 

“Yes.” The leader of the team responded, “As soon as you drive in we are right behind you.”

The drone overhead was equipped with the ability of night vision, the live drone feed was fed to both the screen in Scottie’s office and Liz and the team's cellphones. Both Liz and Scottie watched the screen silently for the next thirty minutes. The change of the guards was due anytime now. They switched the time randomly, but always between a three-hour window. They were towards the end of that window. 

There it was, the first car was driving up to the farmhouse.

“Get read, once that SUV pulls away we move in,” Liz said getting anxious because she knew at the end of this was the answers she needed. 

It was another twenty minutes before the SUV full of guards drove off. They waited ten more minutes before the teams moved in. Liz started her car, she would be driving straight up to the front of the farmhouse. One team would take the guards out walking the permit, and Liz and another team would clear the inside of the house.

When the car turned on the heat started to blow from the vents, Liz realized the cold night air had seeped in. She shivered as she sped towards the farmhouse. She would take the front with two men, and the rest of the team would go through the back door. They would clear the house and secure Reddington. A sniper equipped with a dart gun would take the outside guards out as they drove towards the house. 

Liz heard the all-clear from the snipers as she slammed her car into park, leaving it running she rushed out the drive door towards the house. She heard the footsteps of the men behind her. She rushed up the stairs, taking out a guard who was walking outside the door. The dart made contact and the man dropped. Whatever was in the darts was powerful, Liz was happy for that because they had once chance at this.

Once inside they moved quickly. Clearing each room systematically. Any person they ran into either got a dart or were secured by the third man. They ran into the other team when they got to the last hallway. Everything was working well, there was no reason to suspect that imposter Reddington would know they were here. It was much easier than Liz had expected to get to Reddington.

Liz could hear Dembe speaking, “What do you want me to pick up for dinner?” 

“Anything.” Lizzie heard Red’s voice, it was rougher than usual, but it was his voice.

An unknown voice spoke, “You can have anything you want. I will not stop him from getting you the most unhealthy thing you can think of.” 

Liz held her hand up to stop the team. She was trying to figure out how many people were inside the room.

The conversation continued what food Red would have for dinner that night. The three seemed in comfortable conversation, though Red was much quieter than usual. Liz held up three fingers. She thought Dembe was probably on the opposite side of the room, closer to the window. She wanted to ask the snipers outside who likely had a bead on the window, but she could not risk being heard. As if on cue a voice came over the piece in her ear, “Three in the room. Reddington confirmed. His guard is by the window, we can take him out. The other is a woman.”

Liz tapped her mic, to confirm the order to take Dembe out

When they heard the window break, Liz and her team rushed into the room. Liz had her gun trained on Reddington, she knew the other team would cover the other two in the room.

Dembe was dropping to the floor holding his side.

Maggie screamed when the window broke and found herself rushing towards Dembe who was dropping to the ground. She stopped and screamed again when a woman and masked men came rushing into the room guns pointed at them. Maggie knew who Reddington was and expected this to be the last thing she ever saw. They were here to kill him and anyone else. Maggie did not know guns, so she could not know the gun currently pointed at her was a dart gun.

Red struggled to pull himself up in the bed, holding in a groan of pain. 

The site of Lizzie made him inhale sharply. “Elizabeth.”

Liz had turned her gun on Maggie when the woman started to advance towards Dembe during entry.

“Point your gun at me. Not her. She’s innocent.” There was clear danger in Red’s voice. The cold steel voice that was usually only reserved for those who had broken his code. Liz felt a shiver go through her at the anger she heard.

“No one who works with you is innocent.” Liz snapped back.

“She is only here doing her job,” Red answered glaring at Lizzie. She was his monster, and he deserved her, but no one else did, “She does not work for me. She works for a local hospital. She just is following the orders she received.”

Liz turned the gun on Red. 

“Thank you.” He said his hands visible. “Is Dembe ok?”

The men in the room were already securing Dembe, and two were advancing towards Maggie.

Maggie had tears running down her face. She knew Elizabeth was the one who had done this to Red. Dembe had not moved since he hit the ground. Maggie could not see him, but she was worried they had killed him. Dembe was a good man.

“He’s fine.” Liz snapped moving towards Red but making sure to keep a distance because even injured she knew Red was dangerous.

“Secure her,” Liz said to one of the men. “Check him and get the IV out.”

One of the men came up and searched Red quickly in his bed and made quick work of removing the IV from his arm. The man put a pad of gauze and tapped it to Red’s arm. 

“Get up.” The man next to Red ordered grabbing his arm.

Maggie found her voice again, “He cannot walk on his own. Do not make him do that.” They would undo all the progress he had made.

“It’s fine,” Red said slowly moving the blankets back to not cause any undue stress for the armed men in the room. Bitting the inside of his lip, Red shifted his body, jostling his leg sent a jolt of pain through his body. The knee brace was bulky and moving it only made more pain shoot from his toes to his hip.

“I am not going to be able to walk out of here.” Red looked at Liz, he was starting to sweat from the pain and exertion. The admission was painful because he hated being weak especially in front of Lizzie and the unknown gunman.

“Go get a wheelchair,” Liz said to one of the men who obeyed instantly.

Red moved to his feet, he kept his leg bent the best he could not want to put weight on it. Even his toes touching the floor hurt. His hands-on the bed holding up most of his weight. He felt dizzy and weak after spending weeks in the bed his muscles were weak from lack of use. 

The chair appeared, but the man left it a few feet away from Red. Rolling his eyes, Red moved slowly, using the nightstand to hop the steps he needed. The jostle of his knee caused him to groan. He reached out for the chair, almost toppling over, but one of the masked men grabbed him before he fell, and helped him into the chair.

“Secure his hands,” Liz said moving behind the chair.

She noted that Red was covered in sweat and panting. 

“Does he need any medication to go with?” Liz asked looking at Maggie.

“He needs antibiotics and pain medication. We also have him on a sedative.”

That surprised Red, Liz could see how he quickly turned his gaze to Maggie.

“We did not want you up and about and you were already antsy.” Maggie defended, “So Dembe as your power of attorney signed off on it.”

“I will talk to him later about it.” Red thought if I live long enough to. Maybe Lizzie would finish the job this time.

“Do you have the antibiotics in pill form?”

“Yes,” Maggie said. 

One of the guards hauled Maggie up and she took him to the pills.

While they were getting them, Liz ensured Red's hands were secured and started to wheel him out of the house. 

“Here ma’am.” The guard said.

“Are you at least going to give him a coat?” Maggie said, “He cannot survive getting ill.”

“Grab a blanket for him.” Liz rolled her eyes. This was taking too long Dembe could be back any moment or the people they knocked out with darts could wake up anytime soon.

They covered Red with a blanket and moved quickly. Two men hauled him into the SUV. His leg hit the door on the way up causing him to scream in pain. 

One of the men waved a wand over Red searching for any transmitters, finding none he informed Liz, and slammed the door shut.

Liz climbed inside the SUV and found Red clutching his leg, pale and sweating profusely despite the night air.

“Sorry about that.” She truly was sorry he had gotten hurt in the process of transferring him. “Do you want one of the pills? Or some water.”

Red shook his head no. While he would love to slip into the comfort of a pain pill right now, he knew he needed his wit’s about him.

“If you change your mind let me know,” Liz said starting the car and turning it around quickly, she made good time getting away from the farmhouse. Once they were sure they were all clear and no one was following them, the team turned off and left Liz and Red to travel on their own to the next location.

“Where are we going?” Red asked sometime later. His voice was even, but Liz could see he was still panting.

“To visit an old friend.” Liz responded cryptically.

==========


	28. Chapter 28

Dembe woke up laying on the hard floor. His head was fuzzy and his side hurt like something had bitten him hard. Once he opened his eyes, he looks t the bed and found it empty, “What happened?”

Maggie was sitting restrain to a chair, her mouth tapped so she could not speak.

Getting up Dembe moved to her quickly, “When I pull the tape it might hurt.” He tried to gently remove the tape from Maggie's mouth.

As soon as it was removed Maggie spoke quickly, “The woman who did this to him was here. She took him.” 

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ok?”  
“Yes.” Maggie said, “They secured me to the chair after they made me get the medicine

for Red.” 

At least Liz took his medicine, which probably meant she did not plan on killing Red. Dembe pulled a knife out and cut the plastic ties holding Maggie's hands to the chair. “Can you check on the others?”

“Yes.”

Dembe pulled out his phone and dialed Cooper’s cell phone.

“Harold Cooper.”

“Elizabeth has taken Raymond again,” Dembe said.

Cooper shook his head in disapproval, “She said she was following up on a lead and would report back.”

“She has him. Do you know where she might take him?”

“No.”

“Can you try to track her.”

“Give me an address where you stashed Reddington and I will get Aram on it.”

“She took mediation with her.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think she’ll hurt him again.” Cooper responded, “She has calmed down a bit.”

“We need to find him.” Is all Dembe said before hanging up? He had no idea how to find Red this time. Where did Liz get a team of men to help her? Part of Dembe wondered if the FBI was behind this. It was the only place he could think Elizabeth would get a strike team. All of Suttons men were dead or imprisoned. Tom was gone.

Finding Maggie in the house Dembe was relieved to hear no one was dead. A few bumps and bruises and a lot of groggy people. “I have to go.”

“I understand. I will treat everyone here. Please let me know when you find him.” Maggie knew Reddington was a bad man, but he was a decent human when it counted. She had grown to care about him, if only because Dembe cared about him.

=========

Every bump in the road was accompanied by a soft gasp from Red. Liz had turned to look at him a few times in the streetlights of the highway. He was still pale, but at least he's breathing had evened out some. “I am going to pull over at the next gas station for gas. Put this on.” 

She grabbed the black hat she had in the door well and handed it to him. 

Red grabbed it in his restrained hands and put it on his head. 

“Are you warm enough?” Liz asked looking over at Red.

“Yes.” Red answered, “Where are we going?” He was too disoriented right now to know where they were at. There had been few signs. For awhile Liz had kept backing country roads, and they had been on the highway only a few minutes now.

“A friend's house,” Liz said.

“If you came to finish the job, why not just do it now?”

“I do not want to kill you. I never did.” Liz said feeling the absences of the anger that had driven her before. She knew it was still there, but it was quite right now.

Red laughed the irony of her statement. They had hanged him, how much closer to death had she wanted him? 

“Do you want anything?” Liz said putting the SUV in the park. “Water?”

“No. But I do need to use the bathroom.”

Liz frowned, that would be difficult. She could not take him inside. And she was not going to uncuff him. “I’ll see what I can do.” Taking the keys out of the ignition, she climbed out of the SUV and made sure the doors were locked.

Red shifted in the seat and watched their surroundings looking for clues to where they were. Once Liz was out of view, he tried the door handle, but the door did not budge. She had likely engaged the child locks. Looking around the SUV he tried to find something anything he could use to try to contact Dembe. At his late hour, there was no one else at the gas station. 

Inside, Liz grabbed snacks, water, and two cups of coffee. She kept looking out at the SUV. She did not trust that Red would not find a way out. She would not put it past him to try to crawl away. 

Her hands full she dropped them on the counter the gas station attended a young woman who looked up from her book. 

“I also need fifteen gallons of gas,” Liz said almost in greeting.

“No problem.” The woman said smiling at Liz, “ Where are you and the husband heading to?”

“New York.” Liz responded, “Visit my family.”

“Enjoy.” The woman bagged up her purchases and told her the pump would be ready for her. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” The woman was already back to reading her book taking no notice of the customer's nervous glances at the waiting SUV>

Liz walked back out to the SUV, Reddington was sitting inside his eyes scanning the car, but Liz knew there was nothing that could help him. Opening the door, she pulled the lever to open the gas tank, grabbed her old coffee cup out of the cupholder, and replaced it with the new coffee. Red did not speak to her but he watched her every move.

Dumping the old coffee out of the cup, she watched the pump dial move as the gas poured into the car. No one was around and Red would not make a scene because he was a wanted fugitive after all. Once back inside Liz handed him the old coffee cup, “Use this.” 

Red scoffed, “You cannot be serious.”

“What? I’ve seen it all before.” Liz said, “Either use the coffee cup or piss yourself. I know I’d personally prefer you to use the coffee cup. I do not want to have to smell you for the next few hours.”

Red glared at her and took the cup from her. He waited until they were on the road again before pulling the blanket up. Struggling with his restrained hands, he managed to shift in the seat to pull the sweatpants down. 

“Can you turn the radio on,” Red said wanting another noise to fill the car.

Liz laughed but she turned the radio on. She flipped to the first channel playing music.

Red finished his business and looked at Liz, “Can you roll the window down?”

“Hold on I’ll pull over.” Liz pulled over on the quiet highway. Rolling Red’s window down she let him toss the cup out before rolling it back up.

“I got you coffee if you want it.” She said indicating to the untouched cup in the console. “You should take some of your antibiotics.”

Liz pulled the pill bottles out of the pocket of her cargo pants, “We have a few more hours on the road. I want you to take your sedative and pain medication.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll force you,” Liz said in a serious tone. 

Red glared at her but took the offered pills from her. Using the coffee he swallowed the pills without much difficulty. 

“Look at me,” Liz ordered. “Open your mouth.”

Red rolled his eyes but opened his mouth lifted his tongue and swirled it around. “Happy?”  
“Yes.” Liz said, “Maybe you won’t wince in pain every time I hit a bump now.”

Red bit back what he wanted to say. Mostly because he knew it would not affect her.

“IF you wanted to, you could fill our time driving telling me who you are.”

“You know who I am.”

“No.” Liz said, “I know you are not Raymond Reddington. I have a theory about what happened to Reddington. I also know you are not my father or Jennifer’s father. Your blood type does not match the blood type of the blood Cooper had or Jennifer’s blood. Whoever Cooper and his team saved from Seaduke is my father. We do not know who Jennifer’s father is. But I know it’s not you. So who are you? And why would you become Raymond Reddington? A wanted man who had enemies all over the world.”

“I told you that already.”

“Because of my father.”

“Yes.”

“But who was my father?”

Red yawned, he was exhausted he had been stifling the yawn for awhile now. 

Liz rolled her eyes thinking it was a ploy on his part to stop the conversation. “Just before Ressler and Dembe showed up you were going to tell me who you are.”

“Would you believe me if I told you I was Raymond Reddington?”

“no.”

“Then what’s the point.”

“Fine.” Liz decided to change tactics, she was back on the road again and she set the cruise control, “Who is Megan?”

That got his attention, Liz saw the twitch under his eye and a brief flash of pain on his face. “Why don’t I tell you what we know about Megan?”

Red tried to look bored, “No idea who that is.”

“I thought you never lied to me.”

“I thought you were against torturing people and believed in the rule of law.”

That hit home, Red saw the words land, and he almost regretted them as he spoke.

Liz ignored the guilt rising inside, “So you admit you just lied.”

Red rolled his eyes. 

“Megan had a daughter. She was named Elizabeth as well. Both mother and daughter went missing a month before Raymond Reddington was captured by Seaduke on some unknown mission. Unknown not because it was classified, but because it was not government-sanctioned. As far as we can tell, that is.” Liz said. “Now we have no record of whoever Megan was married to. We would have had fingerprints but the evidence went missing. What we do know is she was married to man. She lived in the same town Reddington was stationed in. And we know she nor her daughter were ever found.” Liz shifted her gaze between Red and the road as she spoke. But he was fully in his disguise and showed no emotion to her words. “The police report says the husband came home and found the house full of blood. There was likely enough for two bodies to have been damn near exsanguinated. But no bodies present in the house. He claims to have come home to that. The lead detective did not believe him. The guy gave up some DNA and fingerprints.” 

Liz paused to take a drink of her coffee. She did not see anything on Red’s face, but he was listening to her. He looked exhausted, she thought. “Lucky for use the lead detective was worried about the evidence going missing and the file. He said Naval intelligence and the CIA were sniffing around. SO he took it home with him, the fingerprints and a sample of the man’s DNA.” That got a bit of Red’s attention he was looking at her now as she spoke.

“The fingerprints were unusable too old. But the DNA, well we have enough to maybe match it. The lab has been working on it and we should hear back any day now. I wonder who it will match if anyone?”

Red closed his eyes, “Great story Elizabeth. I think I might take a bit of a cat nap.”

============

“Sir.” Aram got Cooper's attention as he walked by.

“Yes, Aram?”

“I have not found any trace of Agent Keen and Mr. Reddignton yet. But I did just hear back from the lab about the DNA.”

“Do we have a match?”

“There was not enough to do the proper test. However, they can tell it came from a man. They are still working on it with a program to see if they cannot fill in some of the missing spaces and get to appoint they can try to match it to one of the samples.”

“Thank you for letting me know Aram. Let me know if you need any more resources tracking Agent Keen.”

Dembe had already been in and Cooper knew why. The man had questioned him about the FBI having taken Raymond. The strike team had been trained well, Dembe knew from his men. It took a lot of work, but Cooper convinced Dembe that they did not have Reddington. That Agent Keen was once again working on her own. It was Ressler who convinced him.

Ressler was the one trying to figure out where Liz got the strike team from. 

“Sir. I had an idea.” Ressler almost winced when he said that because a voice of Reddington was already making fun of him in his mind. 

“What is it?”

“I think I have an idea where Liz got the team from.” Ressler said, “Scottie Hargrave. Liz let Hargrave look after Agnes because she was Tom’s biological mother.”

“You think Scottie Hargrave would be willing to go after Reddington again?”

“Yes. Knowing that Reddington had some role in her son’s death.”

“I think you are right. Take Aram and go talk to her.”

Aram smiled, “Just let me automate this real quick.” It took seconds for Aram to call up the program that wound ping his cellphone the minute any facial recognition software scanning all of the live feed cameras in the tri-state area picked up Liz or Red. 

“Ready when you are Ressler.”

============

Liz rubbed her eyes. The morning sun was coming up, and Reddington’s soft snores were comforting. She pulled off at a gas station and stretched outside. She checked to make sure Red was asleep, and the doors were locked before she went inside to use the bathroom and get more coffee.

“Morning.” The gas station attendant called out as she walked in.

“Good morning. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

“Nope. GO right on back.” The attendant said looking up from his comic.

Liz went into the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She was exhausted and looked every bit of it. After using the toilet she washed her hands and splashed cold water on her face to wake herself up. Looking in the mirror again she felt like a stranger was looking back at her.

Leaving the bathroom with a sense of unease, she grabbed a coffee and more snacks. Once again, she paid cash for them. Walking back to the car she found Reddington awake when she climbed in.

“Morning.”

He was sweating and looked pale again.

“Where are we?” He asked a bit groggy but awake.

“Not too far from our destination.”

Red looked at the coffee cup. “Did you get me any?”  
“No, you were asleep.” She said, “But you still have some leftover.”

Red made a face.

“Fine here.” She said handing him her cup. 

Red grabbed it took a sip and groaned. “That is not coffee.”

Liz laughed and took the cup back, “Then you won’t mind if I drink it”. She had to agree it tasted like stale water. “I have food if you want some.”

“Anything bought at a gas station is not food.” But Red honestly was not hungry. He had woken from a nightmare to a living nightmare. The nightmare had jolted him awake, causing him to hit his leg on the door. It ached in time with his heartbeat. But he was not going to ask for a pain pill.

Liz started the car and with it, the music started to play.

“What is this horrible music?” Red asked his face twisting in pain as if it were physically hurting him to hear it.

Liz looked at the radio that had the artist on the screen, “Tegan and Sara. I like it.”

“This is not music.”

Liz laughed as she pushed the gas pedal down. 

“What is the plan Elizabeth?” Red asked exhausted and not at all worried the woman would kill him. He would welcome it if it brought her an ounce of peace, and he knew how sad it was that after all that had transpired, he truly felt that.

“We are going to visit a friend.”

“We’ve been driving for hours now.”

“I have to be careful. Dembe will have contacted at least Aram by now and he will be looking for us. I mapped out a route to avoid cameras. It just a bit of a very long route.”

“Elizabeth, if I thought the truth would bring you peace and not put you in danger I would tell you everything you want to know. Believe me, when I say, the secrets I keep are to protect you and those you care about.”

“You expect me to trust you?”

“Yes. I have never lied to you.”

“You omit the truth all the time.” Liz said, “I need to know. I told you when we were at the bar where Garvey died. This is me howling at the moon. Needing to know the truth. I need to know why Tom died, why you let me believe you were my father. And not just for me. Jennifer deserves to know and so does Agnes. You hold all those truths and you won’t give them up.”

“you think after you tortured me that whoever we are going to see will help you get the truth? If I did not break when you did all of this.” Red gestured to the various wounds on his body, “Then why would I tell you in front of this person?”

Liz just smiled. “You need to take your medication.”

“I am fine.”

“I want you to take it,” Liz said pulling the pills out and putting them in her hands. 

Red glared at her and refused to take the pills.

“Reddington take the damn pills.” She said pulling off the road onto the side of the highway when Red refused to take the pills.

Red just stared back at her refusing to give in to her demand

Liz glared at him, “Take the pills or I will be forced to make you.”

“I would like to see you try.” Red was in a mood. 

“Just remember you said that,” Liz said unbuckling her seatbelt. She turned in her seat and said, “Last chance take the damn pills.”

Red shook his head no.

Liz reached over grabbing his chin in a harsh grasp. Her fingers dug into the delicate skin of his face. Red raised his hands to push her away, and she used her other hand to push his hands down. He was weak and she was strong, and he knew it was a losing battle. But he did not expect her hands, and his to slam into the thigh of his bad leg. Pain flared up again causing Red to cry out in pain. The minute his mouth opened Liz jammed the pills into his mouth forcing it closed, and pushing her hand over his lips and nose. She pushed hard enough that his head was thrust back hard into the headrest. “Swallow or pass out doesn’t matter to me.”

Red fought her, but he was still so weak even though he was on his way to recovering. When stars entered his vision he finally swallowed the pills dry. One got stuck in his throat and he started to cough and choke on it.

Liz put his coffee to his lips and helped him drink a gulp down, easing the pill down his throat.

“That did not need to be difficult,” Liz said turning in her seat. “You could have just taken the damn pills.”

Red was trying to catch his breath and still reeling in pain. What had he done to his Lizzie? Was there any of her left in the woman before him? “You know grief.” He paused to cough, “Can make us do horrible things.”

“How would you know about grief?”

Red ignored the comment, “Just be careful while you are busy doing these things not to lose sight of who you were, and what you are becoming.”

“I have a long way to go before I become a monster like you.”

“Don’t let your hate for me to blind you Elizabeth. You were once a good person. Your hate is eating you alive.”

========

Dom had always been an earlier riser. Even before he became the man known as Dom he had woken early each morning. He would have toast, coffee, and buttermilk. The same things he had since he was a kid. This morning was the same as every other morning. He sat in his kitchen eating his toast in solitude watching the sunrise in the sky. 

What made today different was the sound of the car approaching. He heard it well before he saw it. The solitude of his secluded housebroken.

Grabbing the shotgun from the closet he waited to see who it was. Keeping a distance from the windows. Was Reddington finally returning all his missed calls? Dembe had claimed him incapable of doing so before. 

Dom saw the car and did not recognize it. It was not Reddington’s typical. But the minute the driver came into view Dom knew it was his granddaughter back with more questions. Of course, she would be like her mother, dogged to get the answers she wanted. Stopping at nothing until she knew the truth.

Liz put the car in park and climbed out. 

Walking up to the door she knocked and waited for the old man to answer.

Dom put the gun back in the closet, feeling he had nothing to fear from the Federal Agent. “Good morning Agent Keen. I told you all I know.”

“I am sure you did not.” Liz greeted him back. “I need your help if you do not mind.”

Dom smiled and followed her out. Despite the fact she was here only to grill him did not stop him from enjoying the fact that his granddaughter was currently with him. It gave him a chance to get to know more about her. He would savor these moments.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the passenger of the car. It was Reddington pale and unconscious. “Who is that in the car?” Dom asked, “He is not your partner from the other day.”

“I know he’s not.” Liz said, “And I’m sure you already know who he is.”

“What is all of this?” Dom asked. “is that man ok?”

“I need your help getting him out. He is not very mobile and I doubt we will be able to wake him up.”

Dom was not sure what Reddington told her about him. He was uncertain what to do, but his training told him to play along. To hold his cards close to his chest and see what happens with more time.

Liz pulled the wheelchair out of the back of the SUV and then opened the passenger door.

“Do you think you can grab one of his arms.”

Dom did as what was asked. He took note of the wounds on Reddington. They looked mostly healed. He also noted the leg brace on the man's leg. That would be why they needed a wheelchair.

“What happened to him?”

“Just help me get him in the house.”

Together the two managed to get Red’s dead weight out of the car and into the wheelchair. Dom took over the wheelchair to get it through the compact dirt path to the house.

Once again they worked together to get Red up the stairs. Liz cursed the man. He might have lost a lot of weight, but he was still heavy and bulky. She was surprised to feel muscle and not just mush as she helped get him out of the SUV.

Dom and Liz gently set Red on the couch. “What happened to him?”

“He was tortured,” Liz said.

“Why is he restrained? Who the hell is he even?” Dom remembered to add the last part.

“Quit playing games. You know who he is. He is restrained because he’s a criminal.”

“Who did this to him?” Dom decided to try a different line of questioning. He knew his current was only agitating Elizabeth and she was an unknown variable. He had no idea knowing what she could or would do.

“That does not matter.” 

“It does if they are still after you?”

“You do not have to worry about a hit.” Liz said, “Now go sit down.” She aimed the gun at the old man. She felt guilty for it, but she needed him away from Reddington.

============

“I think she is in this somehow,” Ressler said driving back to the Post Office. The meeting with Scottie Hargrave had been unsuccessful. The woman had been uncooperative, and it took over an hour to get her to even see them. She was in on it, Ressler was confident. She had no reason to act the way she did, but they had no proof.

“I can try to get into their database when we get back to the Post Office,” Aram responded he was thinking of Liz. “What do you think made her do all of this?”

“She and Reddington have had a weird relationship.”

“Not Scottie. Liz.”

Ressler frowned deepened, “I think she finally broke.”

“I just…”. Aram tried to find the words, “It just doesn’t seem like her.”

“Grief can make you do things,” Ressler remembered the head in the box Red had given him. Ressler at first had been angry at Reddington for not letting him get his revenge. He later understood why Reddington had stopped him, and also why Reddington had given him the head in a box. 

“Do you think we will ever get the old Liz back?”

“I do not know.” Ressler said, “Reddington once told me there are lines that cannot be uncrossed.”

“Hopefully he can help her,” Aram said.

“If she hasn’t killed him already. He was pretty bad off last time.”

============

Red felt like he was underwater. Fighting to the surface, but the waves of exhaustion kept washing over him, pushing him deeper into the abyss. The outside world was filtering in slowly. He could hear Lizzie and another voice. A familiar voice, a man. The Russian accent. Russian. His mind was trying to pull the name forward into memory. 

Before the name could come to him, the pain in his neck and the need to urinate filtered in. His neck ached something fierce, worse than his leg at the moment. Slowly he struggled to open his eyes. The voices were louder yelling almost.

Blinking his eyelids closed again. Too heavy to be open. More yelling, the man this time. 

Lizzie was in danger, the angry male voice. He had to open his eyes for Lizzie. Struggling back to the surface Red opened his eyes. They were only halfway open, but at least they were open. 

The environment around him filtered in. He knew where they were, Doms. Struggling to sit up, his neck ached because of the weird angle it was at. He was in a wheelchair. Coughing the two voices stopped.

Something was at his lips, he let the liquid pour into his mouth. Water. Someone was giving him water. Good his throat was dry.

Swallowing the cool water he opened his eyes again to find Lizzie standing over him.

“Where?”

“Who is this man?” He heard Dom call out.

Red felt the sleep moving back, allowing him to surface more into consciousness. Lifting his hands he rubbed his eyes. “Where are we?” His voice was rough with sleep.

“You know where we are,” Liz said moving away.

Red did not answer, why did he promise never to lie to her, and her torturing him didn’t that break the contract? No. Fuck him. What had Dom said? 

“Elizabeth.” Red got her attention she was pacing. “I need the bathroom again.” Liz rolled her eyes, “Can you help him?” Liz walked over cutting the binds from Dom’s hands-free.

Dom wheeled Red to the bathroom, Liz following them. Neither man spoke. When Dom went to close the door to the bathroom, Liz pushed it open. “No, it stays open.”

“It’s fine,” Red said using the countertop to pull himself to a standing position. He kept his leg off the ground as much as he could. Shifting to the toilet. 

“Did she do this to you?” Dom asked when Lizzie walked away.

“Ask her,” Red said panting finishing. 

“What happened?”

“You done?” Liz asked walking back to the bathroom.

Red had himself up and back into the chair.

Dom pushed Red out of the bathroom into the kitchen. Liz leaned against the counter. “Have a seat Dom.”

Dom listened to her and sat at his kitchen table. Reddington next to him in the wheelchair.

“So you two do know each other?”

“Yes,” Red answered to take Dom out of his misery.

“How?” Liz asked noting Dom looked nervous.

Red was exhausted, in pain, and mostly annoyed with all of this, “Elizabeth put the gun away before you accidentally shoot your grandfather.”

“What?” Liz said shocked, she turned her gaze between Red who looked annoyed and in pain, and Dom who looked shocked.

“You heard me,” Red said holding in a yawn.

Liz put the gun back in its holster. “You are my grandfather?”

“Yes.”

“how?” Liz asked.

“He is your mother's father,” Red said as if she asked the sturdiest question ever.

“Katrina Rostova was your daughter?”

“Yes,” Dom said frowning. He was suddenly tired. “I need coffee would you like any?” He slowly stood not fearing any harm from his granddaughter now she knew who he was.

“Yes, please. She has been torturing me with gas station coffee.” Red was the first to speak.

“Who tortured you?” Dom asked taking in the man before him he had a love-hate relationship with.

“Your granddaughter,” Red responded his eyes closing for a second while he tried to ignore the pain.

“You did this to him?”

“It’s a long story,” Liz said the guilt rising in her again, but she squashed it. Reminding herself she was doing this to get to the truth. Who she was, who he was, and why Tom had died. It all mattered and if Red had just given her the answers none of this would have happened.

Dom shifted around the room getting the coffee onto the stove. He had an old fashion coffee maker.

“Does that mean he’s a Russian spy?” 

“Who?” Dom asked confused if Liz means him or Reddington.

“Reddington.” Liz was annoyed the two were toying with her.

Red almost laughed, “No.” 

“Then who are you?”

“I’m a monster. A bad man.” Red said shifting in the chair. “Does anything else matter?”

“Why did Masha do this to you?” Dom was still stuck on the fact that Reddington had been tortured and his granddaughter was behind it.

“The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.” Red snapped the pain was rearing its ugly head and making him agitated. Also, he knew Dom would give Liz a truth, maybe not the truth, but he would give her some of the stories. It was enough to send her searching.

Red’s words felt like a punch to Liz’s stomach. “He wouldn’t give me the truth.”

“I wouldn’t tell her my truth.” Red said, “It has nothing to do with her, but she has to know.”

Dom laughed, “That is what you get for being in her life. We made a deal. But I knew you were too weak to stay away.”

“Wait you all made a deal?” Liz asked “Too what? Stay out of my life.”  
“Yes,” Dom answered with Red glaring at her. “We were to leave you to be raised by a friend of your mother and father. Where you would be safe from the mess your mother and Reddington made.” It was Dom’s turn to glare at Red.

“So you all just abandoned me?”

Red snorted, “We barely abandoned you. Sam was a great father. You told me that.”

“And you killed him.” Liz snapped, “Just like you kill everyone who matters in my life.”

“I did not kill Tom.”

“Who the hell is Tom?” Dom entered the conversation.

“He was my husband. The father of my child. He got him killed.”

Red was glad she did not tell the entire story of Tom. He was not sure who Dom would kill first himself or Lizzie for taking Tom back after the betrayal.

“This one has a habit of getting those he cares most about hurt and the ones they care about killed,” Dom said pointing at Red. 

The words hit home. Liz saw the twitch in Red’s face and a thinly veiled anger. 

“What does that mean?”

“He is the reason Katerina is dead.” Dom said, “And..”

Before Dom could add anymore Red interrupted, “None of this matters. Who I am, why I am here, none of this matters to you Elizabeth?”

“How can you say that?” Liz was incredulous, “You entered my life and tore up everything I thought I knew. Each time I learn a new truth about you the worse things get. First, it was the fact you hired my husband to watch over me. And he betrays you.”

“YOU WHAT?” Dom was up on his feet seething in anger advancing on Red who was helpless to do much to defend himself.

Liz jumped between the two before Dom could attack Red who was still handcuffed and recovering from the torture she had inflicted on him. 

“He was supposed to stay a friend of a friend, there to help if needed.” Red defended himself, “Berlin recruited him, and that is why I came into her life when I found out they had married. TO make sure he could not hurt her, nor Berlin.”

Dom’s fist was clenched at his side. He was ready to strike and despite his years, Liz was sure he could do some serious damage.

“Why don’t we go talk in the dining room?” Liz said grabbing Dom’s arm. “So he cannot interrupt us.”

Dom let his granddaughter lead him into the dining room away from Reddington.

“Please tell me who he is? Is my mother dead?”

“The answer to both of those questions is not as simple as you would like,” Dom said his anger at Reddington clouding his judgment. He was ready to give his suffering granddaughter some of the truth to help ease her pain. He could see it in her eyes. “And I do not have all of the answers you are seeking.”

“Please.”

“I will tell you what I know.”

“Thank you.” Liz reached out and grabbed her grandfather's hand. 

“Your mother was one of the best Agents in the KGB.” Dom began to the story, “She was assigned to get intel on a young Naval Officer who was making trouble for the KGB. Raymond Reddington was very successful at turning our agents into double agents or defectors. This was the height of the Cold War. We needed to find his weakness. Something we could exploit to turn him or at least slow him down. Murdering him was also an option.”

“My mother went undercover?”

“Yes. She tried to seduce him. At first, it did not work. Reddington was a family man. He had a wife and daughter. He was loyal to them to a fault. Family, Country, and God. It was Reddington through and through.”

Liz tried to imagine the man she knew fitting that description. She could not fathom it. It led her to believe that he was, in fact, an imposter.

“When she was unsuccessful we sent someone else.” Dom did not want to tell Liz what the KGB did to Raymond Reddington back then. “Your mother moved onto another assignment for awhile. Eventually, she was re-assigned to give Reddington another shot. It worked the second time around. She had an affair with him, and you were the result of that.” 

“How did she get to him the second time?”

“I do not know. She managed somehow.”

Liz saw the lie, but she would circle back to it. It was an old interrogation technique. Let them lie as much as they want, as long as they were telling you the story with some truth in there. Later you could circle back and trip them up on their lies, once you had more of the story.

“After you were born, it was dangerous. For both Reddington and your mother. She was working with an organization.”

“The Cabal.”

“Yes. The Soviet Union was not happy about her divided allegiance, and she became a target. Around the same time, Reddington had stolen a fulcrum from the Cabal.”

“The blackmail material.”

“Yes. Your mother said he was trying to protect her and you. That they were going to run off together and start a new life. Away from it all.”

“He was going to abandoned his wife and daughter?”

“Yes. By the time your mother got to Reddington, he was already not a good man anymore. Family, Country, and God had disappeared in his life.”

“Why?”

“I do not know.” 

Liz noted the other lie. He knew, but he did not want to tell her.

“He also took you.” Dom said, “When he took the fulcrum he kidnapped you as well. Your mother went to get you back, with a friend of hers in tow. Ilya Koslov. Your mother and Ilya had been friends since childhood. They had been inseparable for most of their life. There was a fire.”

“I remember bits of it. I shot him.”

“Your mother said you did. That Reddington and she were fighting. There was a gun in the room. You picked it up and shot him. To protect her. She also said that she tried to save him from the fire, but he died in her arms.”

“So he did not die in the house?”

“No, he lived for a while after you shot him.”

“Do you know who saved me from the fire?”

“no.” Dom was telling the truth.

“Your mother went on the run after that. She eventually dropped you off at Sams. Or had someone. I do not know all of the details of what happened. But she knew she had the American government, the Soviet Union, and the Cabal after her. She would not be safe anywhere. So she faked her death. A suicide by walking into the Ocean. She did this to give herself time to make a plan. She knew they would go after her family.”

“Who?”

“The Americans, Soviets, and Cabal. They would come after her mother and me.”

“What did she do?”

“With Ilya’s help, she got her mother safely out of the country. They came for me in Moscow, and we fought, but I eventually listened to her and left the country.”

“But none of this tells me about what happened to her or who he is.”

“I am getting there,” Dom responded. “She did not have enough money to didapper, and someone would catch up with them eventually. They hatched a plan. Reddington had been framed. They had money deposited in multiple foreign accounts under his name. But he was dead, according to your mother. Ilya produced the idea to transform himself into Reddington. TO help your mother get the money and ensure her safety. “

“He would do that for her?”

“Yes. Those two had pledged their souls to each other as kids, and they stuck to it. Ilya got the surgery and a year later Reddington was resurrected. Back in the world collecting his money from multiple banks. Selling secrets to foreign governments while on the run from the Cabal, Americans, and Soviets.”

“What happened to my mother?”

“The KGB or Cabal eventually caught up with her. She stopped moving around, Ilya had moved onto being Reddington. Gathering a fortune for them to live on one day. They caught her and killed her.”

“So you are saying Reddington is this Ilya Kozlov?”

Dom nodded his head.

“Why did he stay as Reddington? He could have gone back to his life.”

“I do not know.”

================


	29. Chapter 29

Dembe had called Aram three times in the last two hours hoping the Agent would have some information on Red and Liz’s whereabouts. But there was nothing. Liz somehow managed to avoid all cameras the FBI, CIA, and NSA had access too. Where could she have taken Red? She did not have any hideouts that they knew of. 

Now inside the Post Office, Dembe hoped Aram would have something anything. Their network was working, but no one had seen any sign of the Agent.

“Dembe.” Harold Cooper greeted him, “We need to speak in my office.”

Dembe instantly felt his worry ratched up a level. Cooper looked worried. Did he have news on Red? Did Elizabeth finally kill him? Dembe had warned him the woman would be the cause of his death. But Ray had not listened. Never did.

Dembe followed Cooper up to his office. Ressler was already waiting inside.

“Have a seat.”

“Any news on Raymond?”

“No.” Cooper saw the worry, “Sorry. I should have started with that. Do you have any leads?”

“No.”

“Agent Ressler and I need to ask you a few questions.”

“About?”

“Raymond Reddington. We are confident that the man we now know as Raymond Reddington is not the original Raymond Reddington. Who is he?”

Dembe frowned deepened. “What makes you think he is not Raymond Reddington?”

“DNA,” Cooper said. “We had his DNA compared to the DNA we had from an old case file, as well as, Jennifer Reddington’s and Elizabeth’s DNA. The man we know as Raymond Reddington is neither Agent Keen's father nor Jennifer Reddington's father. Also, his DNA does not match the DNA we have for Reddington on file.”

“Someone doctored the DNA you have on file,” Dembe said simply.

“No, they did not. I collected it myself when we rescued Reddington from Seaduke.”

Dembe almost laughed at the ignorance of the two agents in front of him. Did they expect him to give them answers to their questions when his brother was missing? “He is Raymond Reddington, and you are wasting time when we should be trying to find him. He will not survive if she decides to torture him again.”

“We have been searching,” Ressler said upset at Dembe. He knew the man would not give them the answers they wanted. “Who is this?” Ressler asked dropping a copy of a photo onto the desk. 

Dembe saw the photo and looked up, “Berlin’s daughter.”

“No, it is not.” Ressler said, “It was what people wanted us to believe. That the Stewmaker had disposed of Berlin’s daughter. But she is very much alive. So who is this girl?”

“I do not know.”

Ressler dropped another photo on the desk. “She looks awful like this girl.” 

“Who is that?” Dembe knew who it was. He had only seen her photo once before, but the story he had been told at the time etched her face forever in his memory.

“Elizabeth.” Ressler said, “It seems her mother and her went missing a month before Reddington went after Seaduke on an unauthorized mission.”

“What does that have to do with Raymond? “

“We think this is the original Reddington's daughter.” Cooper said, “That his wife and daughter were taken or killed by Seaduke. That is what sent Raymond Reddington after him.”

Dembe was surprised by how close they were to the truth. “Raymond Reddington never had a daughter named Elizabeth.”

“Do you know how hard it is to make up an identity for someone? From scratch.” Ressler asked knowing Dembe would know it was damn near impossible. To get everything in the system correct. It was easier to edit old records and use those to set up a new identity for someone.

“Yes.”

“We think that whoever Reddington really is, did this for Agent Keen. Gave her Raymond Reddington’s daughter's identity. Changed the birth certificate to reflect her actual age. Elizabeth Scott would have been about five years older than Liz is.” Cooper said studying Dembe, “Was it some sick joke?”

“No,” Dembe answered. “If you excuse me I am going to go look for Raymond. When we find him you can ask him these questions. If he is alive to answer them.”

Liz walked into the room with a smile on her face. She had enough of the truth to be armed enough to do battle with Reddington, Ilya. “Hello, Ilya.”

Red tilted his head. “What story Dom tell you?”

“Why would you hide that from me?”

“Hide what?” Red asked.

“That you were my mother's best friend growing up. Ilya Koslov. What I do not understand is why you stayed Reddington all these years?”

“I am who I am,” Red said as a non-answer. He saw the annoyance on Liz’s face. Dom had told her a story, but it was not the entire truth.

“I will want answers.”

“You got an answer.” Red was not ready to tell her it was mostly a lie. That Dom, her grandfather had not given her the entire truth. Mostly because just like when she thought he was her father, she had let him in. Left behind all of the mess that had become their relationship. Maybe this would work again, and that was pathetic. He knew it, he needed to get out of her life. She was becoming a worse monster than him. 

Dom came walking into the room. Red glared at him and the old man shrugged at him. “She wanted answers.”

“Can you uncuff me now you have an answer?”

Liz noted he kept saying an answer. “Yes.” She walked over and took the cuffs off him.

“May I use your phone?” He asked Dom.

“It doesn’t work anymore,” Dom said.

“Elizabeth, can you get your phone out of the car?”

“I did not bring it.”

Red rolled his eyes, the one time he needed a phone. “Fine. Can you take me into town so I can contact Dembe? He will be worried.”

“Sure,” Liz said having more questions but knowing Red was in no mood to give her the additional answers she needed. For some reason, everything felt ok now. She had an answer, it still hurt to remember Tom was dead, and he died because of those fucking bones. But what Ilya had done for her mother, the loyalty he had shown. It made everything else seem less bad. It was Red’s secret power. Every time she got mad at him and ready to push him out of her life for good, he does something that makes her see the good in him.

==========

Dembe felt the anger inside and did his best to calm himself. He focused on his breathing as he sat in the car. Just as he got himself relaxed again his phone rang. Grabbing it he did not recognize the number, but he did recognize the area code. Same as Dom’s.

“Hello,” Dembe answered the phone wondering what the old man wanted and why he was calling from a strange phone.

“Dembe.” Red’s voice filtered through the line.

“Where are you?”  
“We are in the town outside of Dom’s,” Red said.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes.” Red could hear the concern in his friend's voice. “Can you come to pick me up?”

Dembe could hear Liz in the background saying she’d be happy to give Red a ride back into town.

“I can be there in an hour.” Dembe calculated the time it would take in his mind. He could speed to get there easily within the hour.

“Thank you,” Red said hanging up the phone.

“I said I could take you back?” Liz said looking down at Red in the wheelchair.

“It is fine.” Red said, “Please take me back to Dom’s.”

“Sure.” She followed him outside watching him wheel himself around was weird to see. Once back at the car she helped him inside, making sure not to jostle him too much.

“How is the leg?” She asked climbing into her side of the car.

“Fine.”

“You have not taken a pain pill in ten hours. Do you want one?”

“No.”

“Will, you at least take the antibiotics?”

“yes.” Red took the pill bottle from Liz. He took the lid off and dry swallowed the pill. Resting his head against the headrest he let his mind wander while Lizzie drove them back.

“What now?” She asked as if nothing had just transpired. As if she had not kidnapped him, or tortured him before that.

“Nothing,” Red said. Not sure if he would have the ability to walk away. Knowing he needed to. “Who are you going to tell about your conversation with Dom?”

“I do not know.” Liz had not thought that far ahead. She should tell Cooper. At the very least they needed to get more information on Ilya Kozlov. They thought they were working with Raymond Reddington, but this unknown man.

“How about you Elizabeth? What are you going to do now? Are you satisfied with your answers.”

“I am ok with the answers I have now. But I will want more in the future.”

“And do you plan on using the same methods to get them?”

“No.” She knew she had gone too far both times. But she had gotten her answer, isn’t that all that mattered. “I will not. Now that I know who you are. That you are not a danger to my daughter or me, and your truth isn’t either. I think I will bring Agnes home finally.”

Red nodded that was good she should be with her daughter. Children needed their mother.

“I still do not understand why you continue to be Reddington. You could go back to being Ilya and not have to deal with all of this.”

Red did not answer, he just looked out the window and watched the world pass them by. 


	30. Chapter 30

Dembe waited until he had Red back to a safe house before he talked to him about his conversation with Cooper and Ressler. Maggie finished checking over Red to ensure no additional damage was done and got a new IV connected because Red was dehydrated. Dembe waited patiently for the nurse to finish. Once she was through, he asked her to step out for a bit. 

“No problem. I’ll go get some dinner for everyone.” She smiled at Dembe grabbing his arm in comfort.

“What is it Dembe?” Red asked, “You have been hovering like another hen and it’s not just because of all of this.”

“Agent Ressler and Director Cooper spoke with me while we were searching for you.”

“And?”

“They know about Megan and Elizabeth. They are searching for more information. They believe you are not Raymond Reddington.”

Red chuckled, “Dom told Elizabeth the story of Ilya and Katerina.”

“And?”

“He indicated to her I was Ilya.”

Dembe frowned, “Will she tell her colleague?”

“Probably.”

“This is a problem.”

Red nodded, “I know.”

“You could tell her the truth.” Dembe no longer was sure Liz deserved to know the truth, but it would help this situation.

“I could, but I won’t,” Red said holding in a yawn. He was exhausted the little adventure had taken a lot of out of him. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I do not know.” Red said, “I will figure out when I need to.”

This was so unlike Red, it worried Dembe. He felt the need to protect Red intensify more.

“You should let Harold know you have received me. If Elizabeth has not already.”

“Anything else?”

“No. Wake me up when the food gets here,” Red said letting his eyes close.

Dembe watched his friend for a few more seconds before leaving the room to make the calls. He needed to get a safe house set up in Cuba and Canada just to be safe. 

==========

Aram was happy to be home in his apartment. Samar was resting in the bedroom, and Aram left her sleep. They could talk in the morning. Sitting on his couch he turned on a random TV show and just let himself decompress. There had been so much that had happened over the last few weeks he felt like years had passed.

His mind kept wandering back to who Raymond Reddington was. Was he the man who lost his wife and daughter? Megan and Elizabeth? It seemed too much of a coincidence that Elizabeth Scott was alive and well as an FBI agent whose mother was a KGB agent and her father was supposedly Raymond Reddington. 

A knock on the door drew Aram out of his thoughts. Rushing to the door to ensure whoever was visiting wouldn’t wake up Samar, he opens the door to find Ressler standing outside.

“Come in.” Aram stepped aside to let his colleague in.

“Dembe called they have Reddington back. Unharmed.”

“Good,” Aram said wondering why Ressler felt the need to come over and tell him. Director Cooper had called and told him.

“I need your help.” Ressler said not beating around the bush, “We need to find out who he really is and if Katerina Rostva is alive still.”

“Why Katerina?”

“I’ve heard murmurs over the years. Ghost stories. But she is the missing piece. Whoever Reddington is, he will never tell us.”

“But she might?”

“If we find her.”

“She’s dead. That’s what Mr. Reddignton told Liz.”

“And criminals do not lie.”

“He doesn’t lie to her.” Aram said, “As far as we know.”

“Except for who he is.” Ressler pointed out.

“Ok. Well, do you have any idea where to start searching?”

“I was hoping you would know,” Ressler said looking at Aram. “How is Samar?” As if he suddenly remembered her.

“Ok.” Aram said, “The doctors are worried about her brain function. In a follow-up test earlier today, they found some speech issues. They are running more tests.”

“I’m sorry Aram.”

Aram shrugged, “She’s resting now.”

“Will you help me?”

“I can try.” Aram said, “You want something to drink? I have a few beers left.”

“Yes please,” Ressler said waiting for the offered beer.

“I guess we can start by learning more about Dom Wilkinson. Oleander. He was Katerina’s handler right.”

“Yeah. We think at least. He was defiantly not who he said he was.”

“We start learning about him and maybe trying to trace the Naval Officer who lost his family. If it was the original Reddington. Then we can figure out what happened to him.”

“We can also talk to the folks who Reddington went the Naval Academy with and worked with. See what we can find from them.” Ressler felt an inch, he was hunting Reddington again, but this time he had to be careful. Reddington would not want him to find the truth and his enemy was very close.

“When do you want to start?”

“Tonight.” Ressler said, “I have some files in my car on Katerina. What we know. I got them from a friend in the CIA. I thought we could start there.”

“Are we going to bring Director Cooper in on this?”

“Not yet.”

“What about Liz?” 

“no.” Ressler was uncomfortable, “She is going to be on leave for the foreseeable future.”

===========

Cooper waited patiently for Liz to appear in his office. He had called her as soon as they heard from Dembe. He had no idea what he was going to do with her. She kidnapped a CI after she had already tortured him. If Main Justice found out about this she would be fired, and possibly criminally charged. When had she gone off the rails? He knew her capable. He watched her kill Tom Conolly. But this was all too much.

Liz knocked on his office door taking him from his thoughts.

“Come in Agent Keen.”

Liz walked in and set her badge and gun on his desk. “I am sorry.”

“What are you doing?”

“Resigning before you have to fire me.” She said, “Trying to make it easier for you.”

“I should fire you.” Cooper said, “But we all have done things since working with Reddington. He has a way of corrupting the best of us.” Cooper paused in thought, “I am not going to fire you or accept your resignation. However, you are suspended with pay for the next two weeks.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Also you have to see a psychiatrist again.”

Liz went to protest but Cooper stopped her, “It is not negatable. We all have wanted to harm Reddington at some point, but you tortured him. For days. Then kidnapped him again. None of this is you. I think you came back too soon. After…”

“I have an answer now sir.”

“Too what?”

“TO why Tom died. What he died for.”

“What was the answer?”

“To hide the fact that Raymond Reddington is not the original Raymond Reddington.”

Cooper knew this already so he did not react to it. “You know who he was original?”

“Ilya Kozlov. My mother's childhood best friend.” 

“Who told you this?”

“My grandfather.”

Cooper was floored by these statements. He took a seat and grabbed the glass oh alcohol he had poured earlier. Taking a long drink from the scotch he looked at Liz. “I have to tell the main about this.”

“Please do not. They will lock him up at the very least.”

“He is dirtying the name of a man who I happened to have once had a lot of respect for.”

“There is so much more to this story sir. We need to keep him close so we can learn it. I want to know what happened to my actual father, who was my actual father. I want to know how my mother died. But we cannot get any of this if we let them take him.”

Cooper nodded. “Are you sure about this?”

“yes. And I promise I will not do anything I have done this last a few weeks again.” 

“I will see you in two weeks, Agent Keen.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“Not yet. I will think about it. Till then we will continue to work with him as if nothing has happened. Assuming he is still working to work with us.”

“He will be.” Liz said, “Thank you sir.”

=============

Dembe loathed to wake up Raymond. He was sleeping soundly, which was rare for his brother. But this call could not wait. 

“Raymond.” Dembe touched his shoulder gently. Raymond had been particularly prickly as he started PT that afternoon and Maggie had put him through his paces. The doctors wanted him mobile now. With each passing day, he was allowed to put more weight on his leg, and it only made things more painful for him. Raymond also was refusing most of the pain medication. He was afraid, Dembe knew, of becoming addicted. His opium habits haunted him.

“Yes.” Red’s voice was rough with sleep.

“Our friend in Florida is on the phone.”

“What does he want?”

“You should hear it from him.”

Red opened his eyes fully and pulled himself up in bed. He bit back a cry of pain when he moved his leg. The muscles in thigh and calf kept cramping and his knee sent waves of sharp pain. Dembe looked on worried. Red tried his best not to look annoyed. 

Dembe handed Red the phone and left the room.

“How are you healing?” The man on the other end.

“Fine.” Red lied he was in pain and hated that he was always so tired. But at least there were no other physical indicators of what had been done to him. What Elizabeth had done to him. The rope burns had receded on his neck, and he was lucky for once that there would be no scars. In addition, the scars on his wrist form the cuffs were easily hidden with his shirt sleeves. All in all, he had more scars, but none visible. To all, he was almost back to being Raymond Reddington. The knee brace would come off in a few weeks, and he would be walking with a cane for awhile. He was on his way to recover physically. Mentally, he was not so far along. He had not talked to Liz in the last couple of weeks. He avoided her. Instead, he gave Ressler or Aram the blacklister and he avoided all calls from Elizabeth. 

“I have bad news.”

“You all call with bad news.”

“The Townsend directive is active.”

“Why now?”

“It seems there are some FBI agents asking questions and telling ghost stories. They are trying to find Katerina and more information on Ilya Kozlov.”

Red closed his eyes, she said she was done. He had taken her word on that. But she lied, she always lied. Always betrayed. She just opened Pandora's box and this time he was not sure he could put the chaos back inside. 

“I will let our friend in Paris know,” Red said. “How long do we have?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought.


End file.
